The Price of His Word
by dearlady93
Summary: This is a mix of canon and AU of Heath's arrival/acceptance on the ranch. Tom has been dead for 3 years, Leah for 2 months. Jarrod is 30, Nick 26, Eugene 23, Heath 20, and Audra is 18. Heath has been on the ranch for about a month and a half. All characters are present.
1. Chapter 1

It has been two months. Two months since he last heard his Mama's voice or touched her hand. Two months since he last saw her smile or felt her frail arms around him. Two months since he tearfully gave in to her dying wish and made this wretched promise. It has only been two months and already her image was slipping from his memory. Her voice, which had always whispered in his ear no matter the distance, was now silent.

Tonight, as he sits here with his booted feet dangling down the side of the barn through the doors of the hayloft, he watches as the vibrant hues of red and orange give passage to the more tempered blues of evening. He searches his mind for the one person who had been his anchor in all that life has thrown at him.

"Why Mama?" he whispers as fresh tears slide down his cheeks onto the worn Bible that lay in his hands. His fingers absently tracing the slightly indented lettering across the front cover, he desperately wonders aloud, "Why did you send me here?"

It had been another turbulent dinner. As the words, cattle drive left Victoria's lips they all knew a grievous error had been made. The admittance at the table of such a contentious issue brought about a new round of outbursts and insults as Nick dug his heels in deep and adamantly refused to even discuss the drive with the free-loading interloper.

Jarrod admirably fought to defend his helpless client as that was all the consideration he was able to grant Heath at this point. Victoria voiced her continued proclamation that as Tom Barkley's son Heath deserved to be there, but her words lacked the conviction of her heart. Audra eyed Nick with such contempt as she squeezed Heath's hand on the table and Eugene's head snapped back and forth, from Nick to Jarrod then Jarrod to Nick. He offered no input and eventually just looked down at his plate. It was Silas carrying in the peach cobbler that ended the debate and allowed them to all go back to eating in silence.

As Heath watched the family argue over his presence, he never said a word. He simply tried to meld into his chair, to become as small as possible, invisible. His eyes never left his plate as he pushed the food from one area to another. He occasionally lifted a bite to his mouth forcing himself to swallow the tasteless food. He hated the fighting. He hated that this family was at odds because of him. For the life of him, he couldn't understand what she was thinking when she elicited that promise from him. In all his twenty years he had never felt so alone. His burden of grief was now coupled with the weight of guilt.

As Heath leans his right shoulder on the frame of the hayloft doors he continues to watch the sun complete its final descent allowing the darkness to spread across the Barkley Empire. Finally, he reaches over and brings his lantern closer to him as he opens the Bible and pulls from it all that he has left of his Mama. He gently runs his calloused fingers over the faded photo, tracing her face, allowing it to help stay his memory.

"Hey Mama, it's me again," he gasps unable to stop the deluge of emotions, "I miss ya so much, Mama. I started ta write ya a letter today. I know... I know. I ain't got nowhere to send it," he can almost imagine the smirk that would accompany her teasing, he smiles slightly at the thought, "I just ain't used to not telling ya what's going on. So I guess I'll just keep on imagining ya looking down from above. Don't really think that is whatcha are doing but I figure it's the only way I can talk to ya."

About two weeks after his arrival he discovered that the hayloft was the perfect place to watch the sunset in private. He had been so desperate for a reprieve from the constant need for vigilance that he started looking for places to hide on the ranch. For the most part, he had known what to expect by coming here and did his best to prepare for it. It was nothing new. The walls around his heart were cemented with years of experience dealing with the prejudice that comes with being a fatherless child. The name calling, the isolation, the need to prove oneself and then the fights. It was just that he also needed time to grieve.

The first night he was at the ranch, he had followed them from room to room unsure of what to do. After dinner, they settled in the game room, for what he assumed was family time. Right off he could tell this was a family routine so ingrained in them it was automatic. Victoria sat down on the settee with a book. Jarrod and Nick played billiards, while Audra and Eugene played cards or checkers. That first night, once they were settled, he had quickly tried to leave and give them the space they all needed. This caused the ire of his step-mother and since that night he had made sure to stay long enough that they are so absorbed in what they were doing, they do not notice him leave.

Their routine was so normal to them that each night as they entered the room they immediately went to their self-assigned stations. Not once did anyone ask Heath if he would like to join them in a game or help himself to a book. His manners wouldn't allow him to touch anything that did not belong to him without an invitation, so he just stood on the edge of the room and watched them go about their business.

It wasn't so bad. He was used to being alone. Not many folks want a bastard around and he had learned the hard way it's best not to draw attention to himself. He had already burdened them enough. So he just watched, listened, and took the time to learn all he could about his brothers and sister. He did have to admit that they looked like they were having fun. Growing up he had often wondered what that would be like, to have people close to his own age that he could play games with and trust. He especially wondered what that would be like every time he had to walk into the town limits of Strawberry.

"I miss you so much, Mama," Heath whispers as he carefully places the picture of his Mama back in the Bible and pulls out an envelope that was stuffed a few pages back. Turning the envelope over in his hand, he begins to absently trace the lettering of his name spelled out across the front. Written in the delicate handwriting of his mama, he imagines her sitting at the table pen in hand. Her last words to him forever etched on the plain stationary. A testament to the poverty they had endured.

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHERE IS HE? HE LEAVES AFTER AN HOUR EVERY NIGHT!"

"Nicholas please, must you yell." Shutting her eyes to ward off an approaching headache, Victoria closes her book and begins to rub her temples. How much longer would it go on like this?

The boy had shown up one afternoon looking for work. He had looked so young sitting there on his mare facing his brothers and with an air of pride listing off the various jobs he had had in his short life. His tan shirt was threadbare but clean, his pants showed signs of being repeatedly mended, and his boots were worn through. He was so skinny. She was sure many meals had been missed in his life.

She knew immediately when she saw him that he had Barkley blood running through his veins. One look into his pale blue eyes, Tom's pale blue eyes, and there was no mistaking who his father had been. Oh, how she wished that he was Jim's and not her Tom's! She cursed Tom's name that night, how dare he leave her to pick up the pieces of his mistake.

"Sorry, Mother."

"What do you mean he leaves after an hour every night, Brother Nick?"

A satisfying smirk spreads across Nick's face as he turns and looks at the confused faces of his family.

"And I'm the bad one?" he laughs and again glances around the room, "Not one of you noticed that every night we come in here, he stands for one hour by the doors leading out to the veranda, then sneaks out."

"He just stands there," Audra asks the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Why would he do that? Why not ask to play or grab a book to read?" Eugene looks to his mother for some sort of answer. When none is forthcoming he turns to Jarrod, "Pappy?"

"I don't know, Gene. I can only guess it is because he doesn't think he is allowed to touch anything."

"Oh please," Nick scoffs, throwing the cue stick down on the pool table, "he is playing all of you and you are falling for it!"

"Nicholas, please! We've been over this numerous times and whether you want to believe it or not he IS your brother. We all saw the clipping and the letter. Not to mention he looks just like your father did when he was that age."

"Yes, Nick, I'm surprised you notice him leave considering your feelings toward him."

"WELL, OF COURSE, I NOTICED! Someone has to protect this family." Nick starts pacing the room and raises his fist into the air to emphasize his point, the anger emanating from him is palpable.

"Nicholas! He has done nothing to make us suspect we are in any danger from him." Victoria slowly stands and walks over to the window looking out over the grounds that lead to the barn, "I think we all have erred where Heath is concerned."

"Erred? You have to be kidding me. He lives in our house and eats at our table. The whole town knows who he is and if you think for a second that it hasn't hurt Father's name then you are mistaken."

"We're his family, Nick. Maybe he would like for us to treat him as such!" Audra stands and turns toward Nick, staring directly into his hazel eyes, "I can't believe how you treat him and how you let the men treat him. And don't try to deny it, we all see the daily bruises."

"For your information, this is a working ranch and I am not about to mollycoddle that boy. If he can't take it he should just leave!"

"Is that your plan, Nick. Let the men beat him until he finally decides he has had enough," Jarrod walks over to stand in front of his brother, his best friend. He knew how hard Nick had taken the news that their Father had been unfaithful, "My god Nick, he is just a boy, barely older than Audra."

Jarrod notices a flash of shame in Nick's eyes.

"Eugene, is that what is happening? Victoria glances over in Gene's direction, "You have been out working with them while on break from school."

Gene looks from his Mother to Nick and nervously starts shifting from one foot to the other. Looking back toward Nick he tries to gauge what his brother wants him to say. Getting no direction he turns back to his Mother.

"Uh... I mean, I guess they have been little hard on him."

"This has to end Nicholas! I expect you to keep a better eye on your brother and I don't want to see him at the table tomorrow with any more bruises!" She takes a deep breath as she hardens her own resolve to follow through on her next command. Mustering a tone that would leave no room for discussion she continues, "Starting tomorrow we all need to make more of an effort to get to know Heath. He has been here now for a couple of months and I can scarcely remember him saying more than three words or being asked any questions. It is obvious while we have invited him into our home… his home that we were not clear what that meant and I plan to rectify that. Am I clear?"

They all nod in agreement, though some a little bit more begrudgingly than others.

"Now, Nick, Jarrod, Please go find your brother and make sure he is ok."

"Yes, Mother." Jarrod walks over and gives her a kiss on her cheek before heading toward the door.

"Fine!" Nick starts to follow Jarrod, "If he is outside he is probably in the barn with his horse. The only thing he talks to is that da… uh, well, his horse."

* * *

As they approach the barn Nick grabs Jarrod's arm bringing them both to a stop.

"Listen, I don't trust him and before you say anything lawyerish, I'm just gonna ask we go in slow and quiet. I want to know what that boy is up to when he sneaks out each night."

Jarrod reluctantly nods. His own curiosity getting the better of him.

As they enter the barn they first look at the stall where Heath kept his mare. It was evident from the very first day how much he loves his horse. Each night he took extra time to settle her in and make sure her coat shined. It was something that Nick would respect if Nick could see past his anger. The closer they get the more apparent it becomes that Heath is not anywhere to be found. Nick grabs Jarrod's arm and motions for them to leave when a slight noise from above them catches their attention. Pausing for a moment, they hear a faint sob coming from the hayloft above them. As they listen closer they hear, "I miss you so much, Mama," in the quiet voice of their missing brother.


	2. Chapter 2

The finality of the setting sun marking the completion of another day is not lost on Heath as he turns the envelope over in his hands. He knows all too well the power that resides in the sun's cycle. The setting lets you know you have survived to watch it rise once more and the rising brings with it the essence of hope, hope for a brighter today and a better tomorrow. At least that is what his mama taught him, and that is what from the youngest age he held close to his heart in the darkest places.

"Made it through another day, Mama. Nick had me work with him and the other men on the branding. Boy, was I thankful! Don't think my ribs could take much more pounding. And, I got ta eat some of my lunch."

Nestled beneath the hayloft, Jarrod watches as Nick slightly cringes when Heath mentions his ribs. From the look on Nick's face, it is clear that he did not realize the extent of the torment the boy had been facing each day out on the range. Nick knew he sent him off with men who would gladly pummel the boy on his behalf and he had seen the dark bruises that marred Heath's face each night. Yet, somehow, hearing the words from the boy's mouth brought about a new clarity and a very impactful image.

"Silas and me got ta talking this morning bout the kind of food Hannah used to make and don't tell Hannah but I think she might have some competition for best cornbread. Found myself a couple of pieces of cornbread in my saddlebags when I sat down for lunch today. I think Silas might be trying ta fatten me up. He sounds just like you and Aunt Rachel and Hannah. Always fussing over me!" Heath chuckles as he remembers Silas scolding him this morning about not eating enough.

The image creates a momentary reprieve from his grief as he stares out over the moonlit land and watches as the darker shadows of sporadic trees dance in the slight breeze that started around sunset. The calling card of a distant storm announces its impending arrival. It would be a welcome relief to the stagnant air that has plagued the valley in the last few weeks. It also meant his room will be cool tonight and hopefully, that will help him sleep.

As the hidden brothers listen to Heath's soft, eerily familiar laugh, a haunting chill descends over them. They had never heard him laugh before but the sound delivers with it a sense of comfort, peace, and protection. A calming warmth replaces the chill as memories of their father flow through them. Heath has their father's laugh.

"We have a new bay stallion, he's a beauty. But, if he ain't the most ornery horse. Nick's gonna have fun breaking that one. Sure wish he'd let me gentle him. He'd be one fine horse if he was gentle broke." He twists his letter around in his hands. "I got ta see Gene working with the cattle today. I told ya how he's in school, but he sure can ride. I'm guessing that…," the words, his father, stick in his throat and he swallows the lump that forms before continuing, "Well, I'm guessing that they all learned growing up here," pausing for a second to collect himself.

"He did good today and I could tell Nick sure was pleased. Gave him a firm squeeze and kinda shook the back of his neck, like I've seen other brothers do. I wasn't too close but Gene's smile made me think he said something like, 'ya done good kid'. I think if Gene had a bit lighter coloring we all would have seen him blushing, just a mite anyways." He can't help but smile at the thought of Gene turning red.

Taking a deep breath, he places his letter back in the Bible behind his Mama's photo and pulls out another envelope that was stuffed further back. Setting the Bible down on hi slap he takes the envelope in both hands and stares at the name written in his mother's hand, _Thomas Barkley_ , his father, or so he had learned only two short months ago.

"When we finished, Nick let the men go inta town for a beer. Nick's a good boss, he treats the men with respect and ain't afraid ta do even the worst jobs. Can't ask for more than that from a boss. And they respect him just the same. Boy Howdy, they've all let me know just how much they respect him." The memory causes him to gently rub his very sore ribs. "Nick had me go load supplies. Figure it was best that way, don't think he was the only one not wanting me there."

Jarrod looks over at Nick who simply nods in affirmation of what Heath had said. Yes, he ordered Heath to go load up the supplies they ordered from the general store, and yes, it was because he didn't want him there. The men, including Heath if Nick was being honest, had worked hard on the branding and he felt they all deserved a beer at Harry's. The last thing he wanted was Heath there, the constant reminder to the whole town of the stain on Thomas Barkley's reputation.

"Saw Jarrod in town. He was headed ta his office and Mama, you should see how people treat him. Ain't no ladies pushing their skirts away afraid something dirty might rub off on them. No sir. I think people would line the streets just ta shake his hand. He deserves it, he's a good man." He looks back down at the name Thomas Barkley on the envelope in his hands. "I wonder what it would be like, ta be treated like that?"

Heath opens the envelope and pulls out the letter and the photo that is stored within. The photo is of his Mama and a younger Thomas Barkley. He stares at the image and is instantly drawn to the smile on her face and the arm around her waist. She looks young, beautiful, and most importantly happy. Beside her stands the man he dreamed about as a child. The man he pretended would rescue him every time his Uncle Matt caught him. The man he would stare out the window excitedly waiting, thinking any day he would return. The man he eventually hated. Hated for leaving them. Hated for forcing his mother to work herself to death to support him. Most of all, he hated him for leaving her with a product of their sin.

"I didn't show them this. Figured I had done enough with the letter from him. Didn't need ta hurt them all more. Especially, Mrs. Barkley."

He puts the photo back in the envelope and opens the letter. The words _Dearest Tom_ are written across the top.

"I get why you didn't send this. Every time I look inta Mrs. Barkley's eyes, I get it. I just don't understand why you made me promise ta come now. It's the same hurt, only now he's gone and they got nobody ta asks their questions to and all the ridicule that comes with being associated with a bastard falls on their shoulders. This ain't fair to them, Mama."

He folds the letter using the previous creases and gently places it back in the envelope. Opening the Bible, he places the envelope amongst the pages and then gently places the Bible beside him before leaning back on his hands and letting the cool breeze gently caress his face.

"Why'd ya make me come here?" He can't help the emotion that escapes and he quickly wipes away the tears he feels rolling down his cheeks. "I think the knowing and the seeing is worse than the wondering."

Nick and Jarrod stand in silence, continuing to listen to the emotionally strained voice of the quiet young man sitting above them. A young man both had given very little consideration to since he first showed up in their home with proof of his parentage. They had taken his proof and allowed him to stay. What more could be expected of them?

For Jarrod, this was not born out of cruelty to Heath but simply indifference. In his mind, Heath had laid out the facts and as a lawyer he accepted them. It didn't require any further deliberation unless he was defending the decision to Nick. Even then it was defended only based on the facts that had been presented.

For Nick, Heath symbolized an imperfection in the man he most admired. A man who had been stolen away from him, taken at a time when their partnership in running the ranch had been sealed. It was something Nick had looked forward to his whole life. His father was a man Nick would defend with every aspect of his being without reservation.

Yet, as they stand below the hayloft and listen to Heath's soliloquy, they are both painfully reminded that he is a person as well. A person who had no control over his birth but has carried the weight of that stigma his entire life. A person fulfilling his mother's dying wish with courage and conviction.

They listen as the words turn to grief and subconsciously agree to leave before they are discovered. The walk back to the house is done in silence, each brother battling with their own realizations from the one-sided conversation they overheard. Their Mother was correct, they have erred where Heath is concerned. The question now is what will they do with that knowledge?

* * *

As they walk through the front door, Victoria walks into the foyer greeting them. Her keen eye quickly notes the scowl that is plainly painted on Nick's face and the look of concentration on Jarrod's. It is clear from their demeanor that they discovered something about the boy who had come to them, but whether it was good or bad was yet to be determined. As she ponders the nature of their discovery she realizes that she cannot honestly say what would be considered good and what would be considered bad. If the boy were to leave, would that be bad?

"Did you find Heath?" She asks, unable to contain her own curiosity.

Without even acknowledging her words, Nick quickly jolts up the front stairs toward his room leaving Jarrod to attend to their mother.

"Yes, Mother. We found him." He motions for her to join him in the parlor, where he quickly pours himself some scotch and his mother a sherry.

"Well?" She sits on the grey settee and takes her drink from Jarrod's hand.

"He was out in the hayloft talking to his mother."

"His mother, but Jarrod, I thought he said she had passed away right before he came here."

"She did." He pauses and takes another sip of his drink. He can see the implications of this statement dawning on her and a glistening of tears starts lining her eyes. Jarrod takes a deep breath and tries to process all that they had heard from Heath tonight.

"He's grieving, Mother. They must have been very close. It was so hard when we lost Father, I can't imagine losing the only parent you have ever known." He walks over and sits down in the chair across from his mother. "He was telling her about his day and about all of us. It turns out she made him promise to come here. I am not sure, but I think he has more proof of his parentage that he chose not to share with us. He kept asking her why she made him come."

"So he wouldn't be alone," she whispers, knowing in her heart that is exactly what she would do if the situation was reversed. She wouldn't want her child to be alone knowing that he had a family so near.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, boy," Heath whispers as he leans over the paddock fence catching the attention of the bay stallion that had just joined the Barkley's collection. The horse, who had been enjoying his early morning grazing, turns slightly towards Heath with his ears at attention. Smiling, Heath reaches out his hand and gently rubs the horse's neck.

"Beautiful sunrise this morning," he continues. The horse moves closer to the fence, intently listening to the quiet cowboy.

This was Heath's favorite time of day. The quiet stillness of the damp air, the rich pinks and golden rays breaking through the remnants of dark grey, and the distant sounds of awakening life all send a brisk jolt of rejuvenating energy through the blonde cowboy. He had always been an early riser, but since coming to the Barkley ranch the peaceful nature of a new day had taken on a whole new meaning. It was now, alone, in the early dawn when Heath felt he could discard his shield and relax into himself.

The rest of the ranch was still asleep when Heath made his way down the back stairs each morning. He would start his day talking with Silas, and Silas would encourage him to eat by placing fresh biscuits or raisin bread with coffee in front of him. He would then venture out to watch the sunrise before heading over to the barn to do some light work. He loved working on a ranch, in particular, he loved working with the horses.

"I wonder what today will bring." he continues rubbing the horse's neck. He reaches into his pocket taking out an apple that he offers to his friend. The horse takes the apple and moves a little closer to Heath. "I'm hoping Nick lets me work with him again. Kinda nice to just work for a change."

Heath glances over at the rising sun, his internal clock telling him its approaching seven and that he needs to get cleaned up so he can join the rest of the family in the dining room for breakfast. Silas had told him the first morning he woke up at the ranch, that the gathering of the family for breakfast was an integral part of the familial structure. It was here, in the dining room, that over coffee and eggs they divulged their individual plans for the day, resolved any scheduling conflicts, and presented any topics of concern to be discussed during pre-dinner drinks. Breakfast was served at seven sharp and each member was expected to be present as Silas began serving the very first dish.

"Alright, friend see you tomorrow morning." He gives the horse one more good rub. "Maybe I'll bring ya two apples," he laughs as the horse moves up closer, placing his neck directly on the top of the fence, trying to nudge Heath's hand as Heath backs away. Walking over to the horse trough, Heath takes one more look around making sure he is alone before removing his shirt and hanging it on the edge of the pump. He then takes a moment to splash the fresh water over his skin. Replacing the shirt, he quickly walks up to the front door of the mansion.

"Good morning," Heath says as three pairs of eyes look up when he enters the dining room. Uncomfortable with the attention he slides into his chair, lifts his napkin and places it on his lap. He casts an eye around the table and notices that Nick and Audra's chairs are still empty.

"Good morning, Heath," Victoria responds, slowly placing her coffee cup back on its saucer. She looks over to meet his eyes and instantly her breath catches. His face is drawn and it is hard to miss the fact that he has lost more weight since coming here. The dark circles under his eyes tell a story of many sleepless nights and the bruises that line his jaw confirm the accusations Audra brought to their attention last night. She scolds her own selfishness that has allowed this boy to suffer. How had she not noticed?

"You were up early this morning. Have you already been out working?" she says as she tries to engage him in conversation.

The look of shock that flies across Heath's face at being asked a question is almost comical. His hands, which had been reaching for the coffee Silas just poured, slowly slip under the table, out of sight. His eyes meet hers as he tries to assess if she really wants an answer or if she is just being polite. When she continues to look at him and does not move on to another topic he realizes she is waiting for him to reply.

"Yes, Ma'am," he says as a sudden fear grips his heart. Was it not allowed? Were they going to take away his daily refuge? He swallows hard trying to think of a way to salvage his time in the morning. His fingers aimlessly twist the napkin sitting on his lap out of sight. "And, I like ta watch the sunrise."

"Oh, I love a beautiful sunrise!" Audra comes flying in with a smile that warms the room. "Good morning, Mother, Gene, Heath, Jarrod." She takes her seat next to Heath. "Isn't it a beautiful day?" Her enthusiasm is contagious and even Heath can't help but smile.

"Well, you certainly are chipper this morning. Would you like to tell us all why you are so happy?" Jarrod teases, a smile on his lips.

"Oh, I don't know. I just woke up happy. Is that so wrong?" She smiles and takes a sip of her coffee.

"Not at all, dear." Victoria reaches over and grabs her hand.

As if on cue, Nick barrels into the dining room and slumps down into his chair. His uncharacteristically quiet demeanor manages to devour the brief moment of merriment they had all shared. It is clear from his disheveled hair and the red-rimmed eyes that he slept very little the night before.

"Good Morning, Nicholas," Victoria dares, as it is clear that it might be best not to poke the bear.

"Morning," Nick grumbles and immediately turns his attention to the food Silas is laying out on the table.

As the morning breakfast routine progresses, Victoria finds herself continually looking over to the blonde cowboy, her husband's son. She watches as he pushes more food around on his plate than he manages to put into his mouth. She watches as he carefully absorbs the conversation around him but does not even try to participate. Granted, most of the conversation is centered around Jarrod and Audra since Nick is in rare form this morning. She watches him blush every time he catches her looking at him.

The news and proof of the affair had come as a surprise to Victoria. She knew of her husband's extended stay in Strawberry. She was aware he had been injured and helped by a young woman, but she never suspected that the seemingly innocent interaction was anything but, well innocent. Then to have the product of that affair knock on her front door three years after her husband's death was almost too much to bear. Heath had carried with him a clipping from Tom's obituary and a letter Tom had written to Leah explaining that he was sorry to hurt her but he was married. He wished her a happy life and said goodbye, seemingly never knowing about Heath.

Victoria knew the right thing to do, the thing Tom would have wanted, was to offer Heath a chance to be a part of the family. A chance for him to take his rightful place beside his brother running the ranch. So that is what she did. She commended herself for doing the right thing by Heath, but then subconsciously blocked him from her mind. Now as she looks at him, wearing the same threadbare shirt that he had on when he first arrived, one that she can tell has been mended many times since that day, she realizes how wrong her actions have been.

"Heath, I was wondering if I might have a word with you before you head out onto the range to work." Jarrod's voice pulls Victoria out of her contemplations.

Heath freezes mid push of the fork and glances up at Jarrod. Twice in one meal, he had been asked a question. He looks up at Jarrod, keeping his emotions in check, he simply nods.

"Great! It won't take very long. I realized that I had been neglectful in my duties and had not added your name to our accounts, nor had I set up an account at the bank for you. I just need you to sign a few documents."

Jarrod looks over at Victoria, their eyes meet in agreement, and Victoria gives a slight nod. They had discussed this next item in detail last night and agreed it should be decided this morning.

"Heath, there is one other thing we do need to discuss with you before you sign the documents," Jarrod continues.

Heath steels himself away, bracing himself for the inevitable.

"We need to know if we should list your name on the accounts as Heath Barkley or Heath Thomson?"

Nick slams his fork down on his plate and stands up with such force his chair flies back against the wall startling everyone. That was it, he had already been up most of the night dealing with everything they had heard last night in the barn. He realized last night that Heath was probably his brother but that didn't mean he had to like it or that he was fine with Heath taking the Barkley name. His face turning red with obvious anger, he shakes a finger at Jarrod and then at Heath, but says nothing. He looks over to his mother and only sees disappointment.

"We are working today in the north pasture mending fences." He throws his napkin onto his plate. "Come on Gene, let's go," he finishes, as he storms out of the dining room.

Gene, who had just served himself another helping of eggs, rolls his eyes and stands up. The only thing worse than a grumpy Nick was a grumpy Nick that Gene had kept waiting.

"Bye, Mother," Gene says as he leaves the room.

"Heath." Victoria draws his attention away from the departing figures. "Whatever you decide on the name we will respect your decision. We want it to be your choice."

"Thank you, ma'am. Don't rightly know, to be honest. It is a proud name."

"And it's your name. No one can take that from you," she replies with such sincerity that it leaves no room for questions.

* * *

Boy Howdy, Heath Thomson Barkley is having himself a day. A good day. Not only is he currently heading out to mend fences with Nick, Gene, and their crew, but twice at breakfast, the family had engaged him in conversation. Then, if that wasn't enough, Audra had made him promise to play a game of checkers with her after dinner tonight and Jarrod had let him know that he was welcome to read any of the books in the library. As he replays the events of the morning a broad smile spreads across his face. Yes, Heath was having a good day.

The meeting with Jarrod had taken only a few minutes as he explained to Heath how the family accounts worked. Heath would now be able to sign for supplies and deliveries at the ranch or in town, which would be a big help to Nick, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Jarrod had also set up a bank account for Heath that he would be able to draw from for his own personal needs. The only item Jarrod wasn't clear on was how much money would be placed monthly in Heath's account.

" _You have a personal account that you can pull from for things for yourself. Like clothes," Jarrod pauses trying not to sound condescending but also trying to let Heath know that he can now afford these things, "or a new saddle. Whatever it is that you might need."_

" _Thanks, Jarrod." Heath pauses, twisting the button on the cuff of his shirt. "Um, Jarrod? If I need to send some money to someone from my account is that ok?"_

" _Of Course, Heath. If you like I can take care of that when I go into town this morning."_

" _Thank ya, Jarrod. I'd appreciate it. It's been a while since I sent anything home and I know they could use it," he says as he continues twisting the button, working its threads lose to relieve his own anxiety. He takes a piece of paper off Jarrod's desk and writes the name Rachel Caufield ℅ Jim Barnes, Placerville. Seeing the questions on Jarrod's face he adds, "There ain't been a wire in Strawberry for a long time."_

 _Jarrod smiles, a deep sense of satisfaction passing through him at the thought of being able to do something to help Heath. "I'll take care of this today. How much would you like to send to…," he looks down at the paper, "this Rachel Caulfield?"_

" _She's my Aunt, well, not my real Aunt, she helped my mama raise me. I always send my pay home to take care of them." He falters, unsure of how much he has in his account. "Would it be alright if I send twenty dollars?"_

" _You can send more if you like," Jarrod questions, unsure of why Heath would want to send so little._

" _No that's plenty. It will hold them until I can send more next month," Heath says as he feels the weight of one burden lifted. He had been so worried about not sending any money home for over a month. He knew Aunt Rachel was a penny pincher and could get by on next to nothing but he hated the thought of neglecting his duty to them._

" _I'll send it today Heath." Jarrod smiles and is rewarded with a lopsided grin._

* * *

Riding up to the fence line in the north pasture Heath can see the divided groups of men working on mending any area where the poles are leaning or the wire has come loose. Gracefully dismounting from Gal, he quickly tethers her to the lead line and loosens the cinch of his saddle to make her more comfortable as she waits for him to finish his day. Giving her a quick pat, he looks over to where he sees Gene struggling with an arm full of supplies he just took off of the wagon.

Gene is the brother closest to Heath's age and the one with whom when Heath first arrived he had hoped a friendship would naturally develop. It didn't take long for him to see that the influence of Nick would hinder any opportunity the two might have to become friends. Nick's boisterous personality seems to overshadow Gene and Heath has noticed that Gene keeps his opinions to himself when Nick is around. That said, Heath was beginning to understand that Gene's apparent complicity did not mean that he necessarily agreed with Nick, as was evident yesterday when they arrived back from town.

" _Did you ever play jacks when you were a kid?" Gene looks over to Heath as the two are currying their horses._

 _Heath meets Gene's eyes but says nothing. He had decided before he knocked on their front door to keep his past to himself. He doesn't see the point of bringing his misery into their home._

" _Nick and I used to play all the time when we were kids. Nick always won. Said it was his right as a big brother," Gene continues not taking his eyes off Heath, "Always thought it must be nice to be the big brother and not the little brother." He pauses never taking his eyes off Heath. "Kind of always wanted to be a big brother so that I could win."_

 _Heath continues to meet his gaze doing his best to control the swell of anticipation rising within him at the thought of maybe being accepted by this brother. He knew he should say something, anything, that might help to bridge a bond between them. Swallowing down the rising hunger of hope he answers._

" _I ain't never played Jacks before. Kinda like to learn. I sure would be easy to beat, for a while anyways." A nervous lopsided smile spreads across his face._

 _Gene answers in the form of a broad smile and heartfelt laugh. At that moment, Heath knew that his hope had not been misplaced._

Standing here now, watching Gene struggle under the weight of the supplies, he quickly runs over to help him. As he approaches he sees Gene freeze beside the buckboard, his gaze glued to a spot in front of him.

Working a few feet down, Nick notices as Heath rides up and tethers Gal to the lead line among the other horses. Even in his anger and confusion, he has to admit that the boy could ride. It is also clear to everyone that Heath has a way with horses and would probably be an asset to any ranch he worked on. A part of Nick knows that his anger is misplaced, but he currently cannot seem to control the rage he feels at the site of the blonde cowboy. He watches as Heath walks towards Gene and notices how Gene freezes when Heath approaches. A protective rage overcomes him as he sees fear spread across Gene's face when Heath draws his gun and points it in Gene's direction. Reacting quickly he draws his gun, ready to defend his real little brother.

As Heath walks closer to Gene he meets his eyes and sees the fear within. Following his gaze, he sees a rattler poised to strike. Reacting quickly he draws his gun and simultaneous shots are fired, leaving one dead snake and one dying brother.


	4. Chapter 4

Heath's natural instinct is to flee. As he feels his body being propelled backward and slammed down onto the ground, he knows his only chance of survival is to not let the demanding darkness take him. They want him dead, and while for himself he thinks that might be for the best, his Aunt Rachel and Hannah depend on him. So for them, he embraces the unrelenting will he was born with and decides to live.

Slowly turning onto his left side, he glances down and watches as the blood-soaked stain on his lower right side is quickly growing. He knows he needs to stop the bleeding but that will have to wait until he manages to get himself to safety. So for now, he takes his right-hand and clamps it down over his wound applying a small amount of pressure that sends a crushing wave of pain through him. The darkness tips around the corners of his eyes taunting him. He forces himself to stay focused so that he can get away, get to Gal, she will help him.

Closing his eyes to ward off the lull of nothingness, he tries to calm his breathing and begin the slow arduous process of moving. With his left arm extended his fingers dig into the ground trying to find the slightest hold to help pull him toward his goal. Bending his left leg, he presses the side of his boot into the earth in an attempt to push himself forward. All of his efforts are met with fierce resistance as he fights against his leaden body.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, NICK!" Gene yells as he throws the supplies on the ground and runs over to Heath.

"WELL, MAYBE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE HE WAS POINTING A GUN AT YOU!" Nick defends himself.

"HE WAS POINTING IT AT A SNAKE, NICK. HE JUST SAVED MY LIFE!" Gene kneels down beside Heath.

Nick staggers as the weight of Gene's words sends a crippling wave of uncertainty over him. No, he saw the gun, the boy was going to hurt Gene! He had been sure of it, hadn't he? He runs around to where Gene had been standing and there, clear as day, is a rattler with its head blown off. Turning back, he falls down to his knees beside Heath forcing himself to bear witness to his own injudicious hostility. The boy is struggling to breathe and the crimson stain is spreading. Heath's eyes shift to the brothers and they both watch in horror at his futile attempts to get away from them.

"Just stay still Heath," Gene soothes as he unties the bandana around his neck, "I've got to get some pressure on that wound so we can stop the bleeding." He gently rolls Heath onto his back and then tries to remove Heath's hand to give himself access to the injured side.

"Please, I'll leave," Heath begs, the fear screaming out in his expressive eyes, his voice barely a whisper, "just let me go, I'll leave."

Utter anguish washes over them as they hear Heath's quiet plea for mercy. The look in his eyes leaves no room for confusion, Heath believes they want him dead.

"Heath, I...I'm...I thought...I didn't know there was a snake," Nick fumbles around in thoughts and words. Why can't he just say he's sorry? Did he mean to shoot him? He stares down, his eyes vacant, at the boy whose eyelids are getting heavy and whose breaths are now coming in small shallow gasps. Did he mean to kill his own brother?

"NICK!" Gene yells, trying to break through Nick's sudden trance, "I need you, Heath needs you!" Getting no response from Nick, Gene quickly looks over to where the men are all standing.

By now all work has ceased as the hands are all staring over to where Heath lays on the ground. Idle chatter can be heard throughout the crowd of men. They all know how Nick feels about the boy. Everyone in Stockton, and probably the neighboring towns, has heard Nick yelling about the imposter. Still, no one thought Nick Barkley would go as far as trying to kill him.

"Red, you still keep the medical supplies in your saddlebags?" Gene's commanding tone brings everyone to attention. Red gives Gene a quick nod and immediately goes to get them. "Billy, I need you to ride to town and get Doc Merar. Have him meet us back at the ranch."

Billy hesitates as he looks from Gene to Nick and then down to Heath. He personally has nothing against Heath. In fact, they all know Heath is a hard worker, but he doesn't dare go against Nick.

"You got a problem, Billy?"

"No sir, it's just, well...ah...Nick's the boss and...ah...I" he stammers.

"WHAT? YOU'RE FIRED!" Gene screams his frustration boiling over as he looks down at his blood covered hands. Heath's breathing is becoming more labored by the minute, "MY BROTHER NEEDS A DOCTOR!"

This adamant admission from Gene that indeed Heath is his brother sends shock waves through the surrounding hands. No one from the family, except for Audra on occasion, referred to Heath as a Barkley. In fact, aside from the announcement after the shooting at Semple's farm, that Heath is Tom Barkley's bastard, no one ever spoke of it in front of the men again.

The desperation in Gene's voice, screaming for this brother, manages to accomplish what seemed impossible and pulls at the hearts of Nick's men. These men who are so loyal to Nick, that they willingly turned a blind eye to Heath's agony and watched over the last month or so as the boy was repeatedly beaten down, are caught unawares by the evident fear they see in Gene. As they stand here staring down at the still figure surrounded by a confused Nick and frantic Gene, they realize that by doing so they had given up a piece of their own dignity.

"I'll go, Gene. I'm sorry. I'll ride fast." Billy apologizes. Taking one more look at the dazed Nick, he runs towards the horses to leave.

Gene glances up at Nick who is just kneeling beside him staring down at the deathly pale Heath. He knows his brother. This loud, demanding, loyal brother would never shoot a man in cold blood. Sure, Nick has a tendency to lash out without thinking, but with words or fists, not bullets. He can only imagine that Nick must have truly thought Heath meant to hurt him. If there was one thing that can be said about Nick Barkley it is that he will defend his family without hesitation.

"Nick?" Gene tries again to break through Nick's oblivion. "Nick. He'll be okay. We'll get him back to the house and Doc will patch him up."

Nick's eyes shift from Heath to Gene and then back to Heath who is looking paler and paler. His eyes are barely open and Nick can see a line of tension in his jaw as he fights to control the waves of pain assaulting his body. Nick can hear Gene talking to him, trying to reassure him that Heath will be fine, but how can this ever be fine? His misplaced anger had tapped into his impulsive nature and now this boy, this innocent boy who just saved his little brother's life, is paying the price.

Coming back to himself, Nick grabs Heath's bloody right hand which now lies limply at his side. Giving the hand a firm squeeze, Nick leans down and whispers in Heath's ear, "Heath, I'm sorry. Now you just hang on and we will get you back to the ranch so Doc can take care of you."

Heath stirs at the sound of Nick's voice. A quiet moan escapes his lips belittling his agony. His head slowly rolls towards Nick. "I'll go...please...gotta take care ...them…," Heath mumbles weakly, a single tear escapes his eye, "can't...can't let down...please"

"Who?" Nick asks without thinking.

"Family." Heath closes his eyes, unable to hold them open any longer. "Sorry… came… promised."

"Just rest," Nick sighs, "Gene and I will get you back to the ranch." He gently releases Heath's hand back down to the ground. " _What family?_ " he wonders. Did Heath have other relatives? What did he mean he had to take care of them?

The return of Red with his saddlebags urges the men to action. Red quickly removes the bandages from his bags as Nick gently untucks Heath's shirt mindful not to disturb the pressure Gene has on the still bleeding wound. Easing Heath toward Gene, Nick checks to see if there is an exit wound in his back. The quick shake of his head confirms their fears that the bullet is still inside meaning that they don't have much time before it will need to be removed. Taking the extra bandages, Nick hands them to Gene to replace his blood-soaked bandana. Gene uses the new bandages to plug the entrance hole the bullet made and then takes the remaining bandages and securely wraps them around the slim waist.

With Heath properly bandaged Nick stands up and heads over to the wagon and begins removing the tools and supplies stored within. His arms seem to move in an automatic motion as his guilt feeds on his momentum and becomes more and more unbearable. He curses himself and his actions. He curses Heath's promise. He curses his father. Yes, he curses his father for failing them all.

Jim and Luke, a couple of older hands who have been with the Barkley's for years, step up to help Nick clear out the wagon and get it ready to transport Heath. Nick nods his head in appreciation to the faithful hands as he adds his canteen, a few extra bandages, and a few blankets to the back.

"Red, you're in charge while Eugene and I get Heath to the doctor. Jim, if you could ride with us and then bring the wagon back."

"Sure, boss." Jim nods and climbs up to the driver's seat and takes hold of the reins.

"Luke, I need you make sure Gal gets back and settled."

"You got it, boss, I'll make sure she is taken care of."

Nick walks back over and looks on as Gene runs his fingers through Heath's hair and tells him to hang on, that they would have him home soon. The word home echoes through Nick's mind as he thinks about what that word means to Heath. What kind of home had the ranch really been for Heath? A home where no one talks to him. Where his brother, yes his brother, sends him off with men who beat the tar out of him.

Nick fights to calm his rising remorse and goes about checking to make sure the bandages around Heath's waist will hold through the journey back to the house. He notices only a small amount of blood seeping through and hopes that means that the bleeding is finally slowing. The boy definitely doesn't need to lose anymore. He also notices the beads of sweat on Heath's forehead and the clenched jaw. Reaching out, he places his hand against Heath's cheek, trying to get the boy to look at him but gets no response. It's clear that they need to get Heath to a doctor now.

"Climb up in the wagon and I will place him in there beside you. That way he can lean up against you. It should help to pad the bumpy ride," Nick tells Gene as he reaches down and gently lifts Heath into his arms. The too light form barely puts any strain on Nick as he carefully walks over to the wagon.

Gene quickly climbs into the wagon and positions himself against the side ready for Nick. Heath lets out an involuntary groan as Nick carefully places him beside Gene and then leans his upper body against Gene's chest.

"Alright, Little brother, don't you forget, me and you got some jacks to play. And remember big brother gets to win." Gene tells Heath as he takes his left arm and reaches it around Heath's chest to hold him steady. "For a while anyways."

Even through Heath's muddled mind and his guarded heart, the words 'Little Brother', send a surge of anticipation through him at the prospect of brotherhood.

Climbing up beside Jim in the driver's seat, Nick takes one more look back and sends a prayer to the heavens that they arrive in time.


	5. Chapter 5

A fraught silence descends upon the weary group as they tumble over each acre of Barkley land. The ride back to the house from the north pasture has been excruciatingly slow, but now the white pillars of the Barkley mansion are finally coming into view and with them, a resurgence of determination is felt amongst them. Nick glances back and meets Gene's worried eyes, and then reluctantly looks down at Heath who looks so young lying there in Gene's arms. Heath has been growing weaker with each passing mile and Gene is no longer able to rouse him.

For Nick, the ride back to the ranch has been laden with self-reflection. He has stared out over each passing parcel of land in the vast empire his father built and wondered if he is worthy of the legacy that has been left to him. He keeps replaying the incident with Heath over and over in his head, but can not seem to reconcile the feeling that he had purposely shot him. If he did purposely shoot Heath, then what kind of man is he? He desperately wants to believe that he had really thought Heath was going to hurt Gene, but nothing in his interactions with Heath would have given him that impression. In fact, he had found it unsettling that Heath was so reserved and never seemed to lead with anger. Sure, Heath has a temper and would defend himself, but Nick had never witnessed him instigate any confrontations. Shouldn't Heath be angrier? More importantly, why did his lack of anger unnerve Nick to the point of distrust?

As they pull up in front of the house Nick immediately jumps down from the driver's perch and runs up the front steps only to be cut short by his Mother and Jarrod coming out of the front doors.

"Silas has his bed turned down and water on. Howard should be here soon. How is he, Nick?" Jarrod barks running toward the wagon. A confused Nick turns to follow Jarrod and Victoria as they walk over to Gene and Heath.

"Heath? Can you look at me?" Victoria gently puts her hand on Heath's pale, clammy cheek.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Nick comments when Victoria gets no response. Nick's unsettled voice sends a chill through them all. "How did you know?"

"I was with Howard when Billy found him. I got back as fast as I could," Jarrod says as he turns his attention to Gene. "Gene, we need to get him in the house and ready for the doctor. I can hold him up if you want to move out from underneath him. Then we can carry him up together."

"I'll carry him." Nick steps forward, staking his claim, a sincere act of penitence that no one dares to question. He once again lifts the boy into his arms and begins moving toward the house with the trio following beside him.

* * *

As they enter Heath's room Silas is spreading a thick blanket over the clean bed and motions for them to lay Heath down on top of it. He moves out of the way so that Nick can gain access to the bed, his eyes never leaving the face of his new friend. Heath had brought back a renewal of life in the old man and he would be damned if he was going to let anything happen to this boy. His fears ease as he watches Nick tenderly lie Heath down and then begin to fiddle with pillows in an effort to make him more comfortable.

"We need to get him undressed and cleaned up before Howard arrives," Victoria says moving into action. "Silas, please fill the basin with warm water and check to see if the water is boiling for the doctor's instruments."

Silas looks up at Victoria and nods. His eyes are laden with fear, something that is not lost on Victoria. He takes one more look down at his injured friend and then immediately heads out the door toward the back staircase.

"Gene, you get his boots off, while your brothers remove the rest of his clothing. I will be right back with extra bandages and towels for the doctor." Victoria turns to leave but is stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Mother, I..."

"Now is not the time Nicholas," Victoria says sternly, "We will discuss what happened downstairs after the doctor has tended to Heath," and with that, she walks out of the room leaving Nick staring at an empty doorway.

Gene sits down on the end of the bed and carefully lifts each foot removing the worn boots. He notices the sides of the boots are tearing away from the edges and that holes are beginning to form in each of the soles. He looks down at his own boots, custom made with the finest leather. He ordered three pairs and knows that at the first sign of aging he will simply toss them aside and order more. " _You've probably never just tossed anything aside_ ," Gene thinks as he removes the thin, repeatedly darned socks from his little brother's feet.

Jarrod sits down beside Heath and begins to unbutton his shirt. A tightness grips his chest and takes hold of his heart as he moves the sides of the shirt away from Heath's chest. A mosaic of deep purples to pale yellows paint the gaunt frame telling the undeniable story of multiple beatings in the weeks since he came here.

"My God! Who did this to him?" Jarrod's repulsed tone sends both his brothers over to him. Nick takes one look down and begins pacing the room running his fingers through his hair. He was culpable for the actions of the men he sent to work with Heath each day. This irrefutable fact adds to his growing despair.

"How was he working?" Gene questions unable to imagine the amount of pain Heath must have been in.

"That is exactly what I would like to know," Dr. Merar says as he enters the room and approaches the group. He places his medical bag down on the nightstand beside the bed and removes his stethoscope. The brothers back away allowing him room to sit down beside the unconscious Heath. As the brothers watch anxiously, he first checks Heath's pulse and then listens to his heart and lungs.

"Jarrod, I am going to lift him up and I want you to remove the shirt for me." Dr. Merar orders, he looks up at Jarrod who starts to move toward the back side of Heath as the doctor gently begins to lift him. As Dr. Merar's arms snake around the thin body his trained fingers slightly retract at the raised lines he feels where there should only be smooth skin.

As he removes the shirt, Jarrod's face twists at the abhorrent sight before him. White lines that vary in size and width, crisscross the boy's back leaving a mangled array of disfigurement. The scars wrap around Heath's sides and then stop at the bottom of his ribcage. Jarrod gulps in air as he tries to contain the bile rising in his throat. He had seen the effects of a man being whipped but never to this degree.

Noticing Jarrod's strong reaction to Heath's back, Gene and Nick move around to see what could possibly be causing it. As Heath's back comes into view, the hideousness of the cruelty inflicted upon him causes Gene to run to the window and lose the contents of his stomach. The sight has a spellbound effect on Nick, whose jaw tightens and breath deepens until a tiny ray of hope gleams in his eyes.

"AH HA! Maybe I wasn't so wrong after all! I did need to protect Gene. We all know there is only one place where you get markings like that. And from the looks of it, he was quite the troublemaker."

"You're wrong, Mr. Nick. You're wrong. These scars are old. He was just a boy when he got them." Silas defends his helpless friend having just entered the room with a now stunned Victoria. The tears streaming down her face cry out in anger over the atrocities this young man has suffered.

"He's right Nick," the doctor confirms, having switched places with Jarrod to have a closer look at the scarring. He gently lays Heath back down and begins to undo the bandages around his waist. "The newest scars are at least 4 to 5 years old."

"But, Howard?" Victoria cups her lips with her hand in an effort to contain her gasp. 'He was just a boy."

"Yes, Victoria, I'm sorry." Dr. Merar looks up at the sickened faces in the room. "Now, I need to remove this bullet so if you all could kindly leave, I would like to have Silas assist me."

* * *

Time is a cruel torturer. It will speed up or slow down on a whim and often to the err of its followers.

It has been a few hours since Dr. Merar had asked them to leave the room so he could perform the surgery on Heath to remove the bullet in his side. For the family waiting in the parlour below the minutes seem to be creeping by at an agonizing pace. The hours of waiting, hoping, and glancing up toward the stairs at the sound of even the slightest noise, combined with their own individual badge of shame concerning the treatment of the boy since he made himself known to them, is beginning to wear on them.

Nick, whiskey in hand, has not stopped moving aimlessly around the room. He is a man of action and sitting around waiting is grating on his nerves. He has not yet resolved his feelings over the shooting and his thoughtless rant about the boy's back has only added to his misery. The others watch as his moods shift from anger to remorse to confusion, but no one dares to interrupt his incessant pacing.

"HOW MUCH LONGER IS THIS GOING TO TAKE?" Nick's boisterous voice breaks them all out of their own intellectual prisons.

"It will take as long as it needs to take, Nicholas." Victoria calmly replies, looking up from the same page of the book she has been staring out for hours. Her own vile thoughts plaguing her mind without reprieve, leave her little patience for her guilt-ridden son. What kind of person might feel a sense of relief at the thought of another's death?

"Should someone go get Audra from the orphanage?" Gene asks, to no one in particular, "Do you think he is okay? It has been a long time."

"I'm sure if something was wrong Dr. Merar would have sent Silas down to tell us." Jarrod looks up from the brief that has been sitting untouched in his hand. His thoughts instead are on the legal ramifications for Nick if Heath was to succumb to his injuries. " _And what of Heath_ ," he thinks, when he realizes not once since they had been down here had he thought about Heath. Was he even a little worried about him?

"Those scars," Gene starts, then deeply inhales as the images come rushing back, "where do you…"

The sound of footsteps on the stairs brings them all to their feet as they meet Dr. Merar in the doorway.

"How is he, Howard?" Victoria asks, surprised by her own heartfelt concern.

"He is resting." Dr. Merar's critical eye watches the families' reactions. He motions for the family to sit. "Fortunately, the bullet does not appear to have done any internal damage. I was able to remove it without issue. He has lost a good amount of blood and will need to have plenty of fluids and rest. I want him to stay in bed and only get out of bed with help for the next week. At that time we can see how he is doing."

"So he's going to be ok!" Gene cannot hide his genuine enthusiasm.

"Yes, Gene." Dr. Merar smiles at him, "He should make a full recovery. Now, there is also the issue of his ribs. I am not sure who did that to him but there is evidence that someone has been beating on that boy. He has three cracked ribs and severe bruising on his chest. That is also going to need time to heal."

"I'll make sure no one lays a finger on him, Doc. At least no one who works for us." A tiny piece of Nick's heart shifts back into place as he thinks this is the least he can do for the boy.

"Good. That's good Nick." The doctor shifts uncomfortably. He turns to Victoria. "Victoria, would you like for me to have a nurse come and take care of the boy for you?"

Victoria hesitates. She knows she should say no, that he is family and they will take care of him. It's just that she is not sure she wants to.

"A NURSE?" Gene cuts in, "Of course we do not need a nurse. He is our brother. We will take care of him." He looks around at his family who reluctantly nods in agreement. Dr. Merar, not wanting to overstep his bounds, simply acknowledges the decision and gets up to leave.

"I gave him some laudanum so he should sleep for a while. He is running a slight fever but that is to be expected. If it should start to rise come and get me immediately." Walking towards the front door he adds, "I left carbolic acid and showed Silas how to change and clean the dressing on his incision and I left extra laudanum for pain. Silas is up there with him now. He really shouldn't be alone for the next 24 hours." He pauses at the front door and turns back to the family. "Also, please try to get him to eat. He is far to thin and slightly malnourished which will not help in his recovery."

"We will Howard, thank you so much for helping him," Victoria responds her composure returned.

Doctor Merar grabs the door handle and opens the door to leave.

"Oh good, you're all here," Phil Archer says, a wide smile spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a very annoyed looking Sheriff Madden.


	6. Chapter 6

"Good Afternoon, Gentlemen. Please come in," Victoria, the ever gracious hostess replies to their unexpected guests. From the look on Phil Archer's face, she knows he is here to cause trouble. The man seems to have a particular dislike for her family and takes great pleasure in adding, if he is able, to their hardships. "Please come into the parlour and have a seat. We were just seeing the doctor out. There was an accident on the range today."

"Accident? Is that how you would want to spin this?" Mr. Archer remarks pompously. His pinstripe suit exudes misplaced self-confidence as he thrust his shoulders back proudly and steps into the foyer. Embarrassed Sheriff Madden rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he steps in to stand beside him. "Dr. Merar, I would like to know the condition of the victim."

"VICTIM? OH, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" Nick throws his hands up in disbelief and takes a step towards the door.

"Nick!" Jarrod places a hand on his shoulder. "Phil, Fred, let's sit down and maybe you can explain what exactly you are doing here?" The appearance of Phil Archer so soon after Heath was shot, sends a trickle of suspicion through Jarrod, who reaches out a hand to guide the gentlemen into the next room and is instantly rebuffed with a look of contempt from his old law school colleague. Archer, the prosecuting attorney for Stockton, is a man who in the past has allowed his jealousy of Jarrod and of the Barkleys, in general, to cloud his judgment of the law. " _For him to show up unexpected right after a questionable incident seems far more than a coincidence._ _The real problem is that even though they know Heath is going to recover, the facts remain, Nick did shoot him and the shooting was unprovoked. Heath would be within his legal rights to press charges against Nick and Nick would very easily be found guilty."_ These thoughts whirling around in Jarrod's head do not bode well for Nick.

"Drinks?" Jarrod asks as they move into the parlour taking their seats.

"This is not a social call, Jarrod." Archer's voice is dripping with disgust. " _These Barkleys think they can get away with anything. Not this time!"_ The thought sends a flurry of delight through him as he sits down.

"Of course, Mr. Archer, but it is polite amongst civilized society to at least offer a beverage, don't you agree?" Victoria takes a seat in the grey chair in front of the settee. "Gene, would you please go and sit with Heath and ask Silas to put on some coffee for our guests?"

Gene hesitates. He doesn't mind going to sit with Heath but he also wants to know what is going on. It also strikes him that, of the family members here, he is Heath's only advocate and if Phil Archer and Sheriff Madden are here to cause trouble who in this room will stand up for Heath? Of course, on the other side of that thought is the question, who in this room would be willing to sit with Heath?

"Certainly, Mother." He looks toward everyone in the room, "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sit with my **brother.** " He places a particular amount of emphasizes on the word brother, a parting sentiment to those in the room that he hopes will linger as they discuss their business. He then smiles and turns to leave.

"When did Heath Thomson become your brother?" Archer's tone drips with an almost menacing sarcasm.

'Well I guess that would be on the day he was born," Gene replies matter-of-factly, holding his head up proudly as if daring Phil Archer to speak out against him. He does not miss the quiet snickers coming from everyone except Nick and Phil Archer who look dumbfounded. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He nods to them and then heads towards the stairs.

"So, what's this about?" Nick's patience is running dangerously thin.

"Well, you see…" Fred begins.

"MOTHER?" Audra's voice carries into the room as they hear the front door slam behind her, "On my way back from the orphanage, I passed Molly and she said that someone had been... " she pauses as she notices the group now standing in the room staring at her, "Where's Gene? Is he alright?" her eyes dart uneasily around the room looking for her missing brother.

Audra meets her Mother's eyes and can see the worry disguised as detachment within them. She scans the room and each of the occupants. She recognizes Fred Madden and Phil Archer and wonders why they would be out at the ranch and not meeting with Jarrod at his office. She looks over at Nick who is standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his body cocooned in fury.

"He's fine dear. He's upstairs with Heath." Victoria walks over to Audra and interlocks their arms, gently guiding her back toward the door. "Why don't you go and see if your brother needs any help?"

"What's wrong with Heath?" She asks as she internally reprimands herself for forgetting to ask about him as she did Gene as soon as she saw that Gene was absent.

"He was hurt today but he is going to just fine." Victoria adds seeing the concern growing in Audra's eyes, "Now why don't you see if Gene needs anything."

"Yes, Mother." Audra knows she is being dismissed but she also knows that now is not the time to argue. She would have her say later tonight when they met as a family. "Excuse me, Gentlemen."

"ALRIGHT, NOW IF SOMEONE CAN TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! Sorry Mother," Nick quickly adds. They all look back to Fred who awkwardly slides back into his chair.

* * *

Gene reaches into the basin and wrings out the cloth Silas had been using to cool Heath down in an attempt to keep the fever from rising. Taking the cloth, he gently wipes down the pale face and chest of the boy who saved his life today and tries to sooth away Heath's restlessness. The occasional crease in Heath's forehead and the slight movement of his left leg, tell the story of the pain he is feeling even now in his sleep or unconsciousness. Gene isn't sure which it is as he focuses, almost absently, on the rise and fall of Heath's bruised chest.

"Hey, Heath," Gene says after a few minutes, "I didn't get a chance to say thank you for saving my life today. That snake had me dead on, don't know how I didn't notice it. But I sure am glad you were there. Man, are you fast with that gun. When you wake up you are going to have to tell me where you learned to shoot like that." Gene dips the cloth again and repeats the process of cooling Heath down. "I, uh, wanted to say how sorry I am about how I treated you when you first came here. I really didn't know what to think of you when you first showed up and told us who you are."

Gene smiles as he thinks back to that day not even two months ago. He had just returned from school for summer break and was settling back into the routine of his family when Nick came running into the house dragging a very thin, very blonde, and very young man behind him. Per Nick's usual, he was screaming loud enough to shake the entire house. At first, Gene had thought it was a little funny until he saw the bloody face of the boy and let the words Nick was saying sink in. It was when Heath pulled out the clipping and the letter from his father to Leah Thomson that time stood still.

Gene had been twenty when his father was murdered by the railroad. On the morning of that dreadful day, his father had taken him to the train station and they had said their goodbyes with a handshake. Gene going to school had been a source of contention between them. His father felt he had already lost Jarrod to higher education, and that was done very reluctantly, with the heavy persuasion that verged on threats from Victoria and the very sensible argument that the family enterprises needed a lawyer. He would be damned if he was going to lose another son to such an endeavor. The ranch, the mines, the wineries were all growing and their father knew it would be too much for one person to handle alone. When it became apparent that Gene was not cut out to mend fences or herd cattle, their father was livid. Words like, disappointment, letdown, and cursed were flung into the face of his youngest son as he handed him the money for his school's tuition. So, on that fateful day, the two stubborn strong-willed men shook hands and said a mumbled goodbye, neither one knowing it would be the last time they would see each other.

"And with Nick, well you can see how Nick is. Sometimes it's just easier to stay on his good side. Not that it makes it right but until I was able to sort out my own feelings I guess I figured keeping quiet was better. I'm also sorry for that." Gene shudders as he thinks about Heath's injuries and everything he has silently endured since coming here. He places the cloth back in the basin and rubs his hands over his face. "See, my father and I didn't have the best relationship. He was a rancher and I'm sure you have noticed, I am not. He was disappointed in me for choosing to go to school like Jarrod. But, Mother, well she has always stood by me, in whatever I choose to do. I couldn't let her down, ya know. I could see you were telling the truth. You had the evidence and even Mother said it was true, but part of me felt if I accepted you that I was betraying her and I couldn't do that."

Heath's shivers draw Gene out of his momentary introspection, and he quickly wrings out the cloth and begins wiping down Heath's face and neck to calm his sudden agitation. Incoherent mumbling escapes Heath's lips as the cloth begins to works its magic and steadies the young cowboy.

"Shh, you're going to be just fine. I'm here now Heath and I plan to be a good big brother. You're probably wondering why, why the change. I could see the questions in your eyes yesterday in the barn when we talked about Jacks. You have very expressive eyes," Gene chuckles, "But you trusted me, I saw that too, and I wanted you to trust me." He reaches down and takes Heath's hand in his.

"About a week ago, we were all sitting at breakfast, Nick and Jarrod were debating about the upcoming cattle drive, Audra was talking to Mother about a new dress she ordered from the seamstress in town, and you were doing what you have done every meal since you have been here, pushing food around on your plate and stealing glances in everyone's direction. I don't think you noticed, but Heath, I caught your eyes." He inhales deeply, reflecting on that moment again takes his breath and he swallows down his emotions. "The loneliness and the longing I saw as you looked into the each of our faces. I don't know, I just suddenly wanted nothing more than to make that look go away."

"That's what I saw on his very first day here." Audra walks through the doorway having caught the very end of Gene's words and wraps her arms around a slightly startled Gene. She gifts him with one of her contagious smiles that even through her tear-streaked face makes him feel better. "It was then that I knew that both Heath and Mother were the innocent victims in what happened and that supporting him did not mean betraying Mother. They both deserve our support."

Gene nods his agreement. He looks thoughtfully at his compassionate, kind, and wise little sister. She has the heart of a lioness and never falters to do what she thinks is right. "That's why you accepted him from the very beginning?"

She nods to him and then sits down on the end of the bed beside Heath's legs. "How is he? What happened?"

Gene takes a deep breath and meets his sister's eyes. "I'll tell you but you're not going to like it."

* * *

The tension swirling around the room was suffocating to anyone who dared need oxygen to survive. Fred has just finished explaining how the Kyle brothers, having overheard Billy telling Dr. Merar he was needed at the ranch, informed Phil Archer of a suspicious shooting between one Nick Barkley and one Heath Thomson today on the Barkley ranch. They were, of course, just doing their civic duty and hoping to ensure the safety of Mr. Thomson from the powerful Barkley family. A deed Phil Archer was all too happy to comply with.

'Now, we will need a list of the cowhands who witnessed the shooting so that Fred can interview them," Phil Archer says and Fred noticeably cringes as he sips the coffee from the service Silas had delivered. "And I need to interview Mr. Thomson. We will, of course, be removing him from the premises to ensure his safety."

"NOW HOLD ON JUST A MINUTE!" Nicks cuts in, unsure of why, other than a tiny, barely audible voice in the back of his mind reminding him that the Barkleys take care of their own, and he doesn't want the boy moved.

"You can't honestly think I would leave him here after the attempt already made on his life!"

Hearing the grumbling rising within Nick, Jarrod quickly intervenes. "Phil, you can't honestly think that myself, our Mother, Gene who is very fond of Heath as you could see earlier, and Audra would all be a party to murder. Heath is after all family." Jarrod continues to himself, " _Now is not the time for Nick to go off halfcocked. There are too many uncertainties swirling around in the room. Like for example, he knows Phil could care less about Heath and is simply using him to bring down a Barkley._

"How convenient," Mr. Archer says, his jaw tightening and his face turning slightly red with constraint.

"Well regardless, as his physician, I will not allow you to question or move him for at least a few days. Right now the boy needs rest and I am sure," Dr. Merar looks decidedly at Archer, "you would not want to do anything that might jeopardize his recovery." Archer starts to open his mouth, his anger obviously dangerously reaching a boiling point at the doctor's words, but Dr. Merar cuts him off, "As his physician, I am within my rights to make these requests."

"That would be correct, Howard," Fred jumps in wanting to diffuse the rising situation. Turning to Nick, he adds "If I could get a list of names I can start interviewing the men later today."

Nick jeers and Jarrod swiftly answers for him, "Of course, Fred. Anything you need."

Fred nods to Jarrod and then stands to take his leave of the family. Phil leisurely follows suit deliberately drawing out the conclusion of the meeting. Victoria rises to see their guests out followed by Jarrod and Nick.

"Thank you for the concern you have shown Heath. We are happy to have the matter properly investigated so that there will be no questions concerning this most unfortunate accident." She smiles as they make their way into the foyer.

"Make no mistake Mrs. Barkley," he turns and looks directly at Jarrod issuing a deliberate threat, "this will be investigated to the full extent of the law. Good day." He tips his hat and follows Fred and Dr. Merar out the front door.

Victoria turns toward her sons only to be cut short by a blonde force of nature storming past her toward Nick. The sound of the slap Audra delivered directly to Nick's face, vibrates off the walls of the foyer. "Nick Barkley, what have you done?"


	7. Chapter 7

The waning of what has been an extremely long afternoon does not help to bring any type of peace to the Barkley mansion. The family, still reeling from the arrival of Phil Archer and the threat he has levied against them, have scattered in search of isolation and a much-needed respite from the discussions that have been non-stop since their guests' departures. Discussions that have yielded not hope but despair as the family tries to find a plausible excuse for Nick's behavior.

In his study, Jarrod repeats the conversation over and over in his head. He knows that Archer's threat of prosecution will not be easily resolved should Heath choose to press charges. The law is on Archer's side no matter what Nick's reasons for shooting Heath had been, and Nick's reasons do little to explain his actions.

" _I DUNNO, Jarrod! I saw the gun pointing at Gene and I reacted!" Nick storms over and pours himself another shot of bourbon. He can feel their stares on his back but chooses not to turn around and see the disapproval in their eyes._

" _Surely, Heath did something to make you think he was a threat to Gene." Jarrod walks over to stand in front of Nick. He needs to understand the full picture and to do that he needs to read Nick's unspoken language. "Did you see him walking up after tying off Gal?"_

" _Yeah, I saw him" Nick throws back the drink and pours another._

" _Did he look angry?" Jarrod's frustration is growing. How can he help Nick if he is unwilling to tell him what happened?_

" _NO!" Nick blurts out. He gulps down the next shot, sets down his glass, and begins fiddling with the button on his cuff, a nervous reaction that Jarrod has never seen from the over-confident Nick. He turns away from Jarrod and heads towards the fireplace, the whole family watching. "No, he didn't look angry."_

" _Well, how did he look?"_

" _He looked, well… he looked…"_

" _Yes, he looked what!" Jarrod's patience is gone. He walks over to stand directly in front of his brother. "Please, Nick you have to tell me."_

" _HE LOOKED HAPPY, okay. He looked happy." The gasps that escape from Victoria and Audra echo through his ears crushing his soul._

" _You shot him because, for the first time since he has been on this ranch, he looked happy?" Gene's voice is laden with rage as he walks in. This brother who only hours earlier he had given the benefit of the doubt to, the one he believed would never shoot a man for no reason, shot their brother because he looked happy._

" _It made me angry!" Nick turns towards Gene. "Then I saw his gun pointed at you and you looked terrified, so I reacted. Alright, I reacted. That's what happened."_

Jarrod runs his fingers through his hair and stares out into the empty room realizing that nothing is going to be discovered tonight. He needs to talk to Heath and that won't happen until at least tomorrow and then only if Heath is up to it. Getting up from his desk he decides to head upstairs to clean up before dinner.

* * *

Audra storms out of the house at Nick's admission and heads for the one place she finds solace, the stables. Something she discovered early on that she has in common with her new brother. The brushing, talking, and feeding of the horses has always had a calming effect on her, so whenever she needs to settle her thoughts she finds herself there, and after the events of the day there was nothing she needed more.

When she sees Luke bringing in Gal, she runs over to intercept them and take over her care. It is the least she can do for Heath after what happened. She knows how much he loves his mare and getting her settled will help her feel closer to him.

Slowly running the brush along Gal's side, she smiles when she thinks about the first time she surprised Heath in the barn. He had been doting over his little mare, telling her all about his day and how she was the best horse there. Audra had not heard him speak more than maybe two words so she decided to hide in the shadows and listened intently to his soft drawl. He told Gal all about them and about the house. He told Gal jokes and even laughed softly at his own silliness causing Audra to laugh out loud and be discovered. At first, he thought she was laughing at him, the poor bastard, but she quickly put his fears to rest. This was the beginning of their growing friendship.

"He is going to be just fine," Audra tells Gal as she runs the brush down her back, "you'll see, and until then, I will come out and take care of you just like he would." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a couple of sugar cubes. "I know Heath will say I'm spoiling you. But you deserve to be spoiled." She giggles and then abruptly stops as reality comes tumbling down upon her.

She leans her forehead against Gal's side. How could Nick shoot Heath for no reason? Isn't he her big protective brother with a heart of gold, the one she can always turn to? She feels the tears begin again, their long journey down her cheeks strung with confusion. His shocked expression at the slap she delivered is in the forefront of her mind. She expected him to explode, which is his way, but instead, he looked lost, almost submissive. That is not Nick. Nick doesn't hold back for anyone, not even his little sister. For him to have allowed her to strike him, without defense, means he too is struggling under the weight of what he has done. He is lost and unable to find his way back. He needs her help just as much as Heath.

Determined to help them both, she takes a deep breath and wipes away her tears. She quickly says goodbye to Gal and moves to put the brush away. Standing resolutely, she heads back to the house wanting nothing more than to mend what is broken. Nick is her big-hearted brother and she is even more determined to get through to him.

* * *

Standing alone in the hallway, after following his mother upstairs and watching her walk into her room, Nick leans on the frame of the door to the small room beside his that looks out over the corral. He watches as Gene delicately wipes down Heath's face and neck while softly talking to him. He is sure the family doesn't want him anywhere near Heath but he is warring within himself to understand what happened and those garbled thoughts lead him here to this room. He looks out over the pale and restless boy whom his sister had passionately reminded him did not ask to be born and tries desperately to understand why the answer isn't this simple for him?

" _Audra!" Victoria yells shocked by her daughter's behavior._

" _Answer me, Nick!" Audra steps up face to face with her stunned brother. "Well?"_

" _Audra, I…" Nick gently rubs his check unsure of how to respond to his irate sister whose blue eyes, that had always glowed with adoration, now spurned him._

" _It's not his fault! He didn't get a choice and he had every right to come find his family!_

Her words ricochet around his heart slicing holes in his armor weakening its foundation. He knows she is right, none of this is Heath's fault or Heath's doing, but it is easier to hate Heath than to accept what his father did. His father, a man who built an empire with hard work and passion, did not shun his responsibilities or betray his wife. That is not the man who raised him. That is not the man he admired above all others. And yet, it is, and that fact tears Nick apart. That fact decimates the legend that Nick has formed around the fallen Thomas Barkley. A legend Nick is not ready to let go of.

The sounds of screams coming from just inside the room pull Nick out of his self-reflection. He walks further into the room and sees a frantic Gene trying to calm a thrashing Heath.

"NO! Please...no." Heath cries out to the phantoms of his nightmare. His restlessness is increasing as his head begins to move back and forth and he fights gallantly to escape the covers.

"Shh Heath, its okay. No one is going to hurt you," Gene soothes. Heath's words send chills through Gene as he tries to calm his little brother. He looks up as Nick enters but then immediately turns back to the obviously distraught Heath. "Just calm down, Heath, you're safe."

"Matt...NO PLEASE… don't hurt..." Heath's screams funnel through the house and bring the rest of the family running in. As Jarrod enters, he glances at the motionless Nick and quickly moves to sit on the opposite side of Heath trying to help Gene calm him. He worries that the spastic movements will pull out Heath's stitches or somehow injure him further. Audra and Victoria stand off to the side comforting each other.

"What's wrong with him? What happened?" Audra asks as she shoots an accusatory look at Nick who simply looks away unable to meet her eyes.

"I don't know. He started getting agitated and I was trying to calm him down. He's having a nightmare and I think the laudanum is making it harder for him to wake up," Gene says as he wrings out the cloth and tries again to use the cooling effect of the water to ease Heath's dreams.

"Away...stay away... don't touch..please" Heath begs. His hand curls into a fist as he twists and turns sending lashes of pain through him.

"Heath, wake up. You're dreaming. No one is going to hurt you." Gene tries again, louder this time. He grabs Heath's face and tries to wake him.

"NO!... NO!...please...no more…" The hands on his face send Heath into a frenzy. The blatant fear tears at the family as they flash back to the scars they had witnessed earlier that day. They know he has suffered horribly and it seems he is reliving whatever happened in his dreams. Unable to ignore her mother's heart any longer, Victoria moves in beside Heath and begins to run her fingers through his hair. She coos in his ears hoping the softness of her voice will have a calming effect that will break through his delirium.

"Heath, sweetheart. You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you," Victoria repeats over and over as her fingers gently run through the thick blonde hair just like she has done so many times before for her own children. Slowly, Heath begins to settle, his breathing eases.

"Mama… here?" his voice breaks and his tears fall through his closed eyes, "Mama?" He says one more time as he sinks limply back into the pillows.

"Yes, sweetheart. Just rest. No one is going to hurt you." Victoria gently takes the cloth from Gene and wipes down his face. She glances up at her children who are watching with reverence as she allows her gentle heart to revoke her feelings of betrayal. She turns back to Heath and begins to hum a lullaby and watches as his features soften and he is lulled back to a deep sleep.

Victoria looks down over this boy, so close in looks to her Tom, and so innocent in all of this. He is just a victim, like herself, and he has suffered his entire life because one man, her husband, decided to break his vows and never check back. She is far from ignorant of the stigma associated with those born out of wedlock.

Victoria picks up the familiar hands of the boy on the bed and weeps.


	8. Chapter 8

He knows, all too well, what it is to be alone. It is a feeling so familiar to him that it's tentacles weave around him like a sheath, trying to protect him from the delusions of youth, where societal rejection based merely on his unconventional birth does nothing to tame his idealistic heart. A heart that desires nothing more than to be accepted on the merit of the actions performed by the man it is encased within and not for something he has no control over. It is that desire that led to hope when he left to fulfill his mother's final wish.

As tiny synapses fire through him, painfully dragging him from the empty solace he has found in the darkness, he sinks further down into the bed and wonders how he got here, wherever here is. He tries to shuffle through the jumbled mess of thoughts swirling around in his brain but he can't seem to slow them into clarity. So, instead, he focuses on his body in an effort to begin the slow strenuous process of moving.

A sense of panic sets in as he feels the crushing weight of weakness throughout his form, leaving him vulnerable to his surroundings. He desperately tries to calm his breathing, as each breath sends razor sharp pains through his chest and right side. Unable to stop it, a soft cry escapes his lips as he focuses all his energy on opening his eyes so that he can be prepared for whatever fate awaits him.

With great effort, his eyelashes begin to flutter and sluggishly his eyes open to blurry slits revealing shadows and shapes in front of him. Unable to find the strength to lift his arm and wipe his eyes, he begins to blink away the remnants of sleep clearing his vision. As the images come into focus, he realizes he is alone in the room assigned to him by the Barkleys. His sheath tightens at the realization that not one of his brothers or even his sister is here to help him. His frail state does little to help reign in the wall of emotion threatening to release at the loneliness he feels. Why does he allow himself to hope?

Heath shifts his view toward the mahogany nightstand situated on the right side of the bed. His mouth is parched and he wants nothing more than to quench the undeniable thirst that comes with blood loss. As the memories of the events that lead him here begin to sort themselves out he knows that he will not be able to roll onto his right side towards the nightstand and will instead need to find a different way to sit up. A hefty task for someone who is unable to lift his finger.

He takes as deep a breath as his cracked ribs will allow, and a single grunt marks the exertion he uses to just get his right arm to lay across him. He can already feel his body drifting back towards sleep but knows from experience that he should try to drink something before that happens. Lying still for a moment, he rests his right hand on top of his chest and gathers his resolve as he looks back towards the water pitcher.

Standing to the left and out of sight, Nick watches Heath's feeble attempts at movement and cringes with each groan that escapes the blonde's lips. It is still an hour before sunrise and unable to sleep Nick has once again found himself drawn to this room, to this boy. When he first arrived in the shadows, his mother was still sitting with Heath as she has been since she was able to calm him the night before. As Heath's breath deepened and he began shifting slightly, his mother left the room, heading down that backstairs toward the kitchen, for what Nick assumes is to get some broth for the blonde who is showing signs of waking.

Nick continues to watch as Heath tries to move his right arm and lay it across his chest. His curiosity peaked, he tries to figure out what the boy is about until he sees Heath shift his view back to the water pitcher on his right and realizes Heath is trying to move so that he can get some water. He can tell that Heath is preparing for his next attempt and he can't help but admire the boy's tenacity. When Heath falls back exhausted and frustrated to the point of tears at not being able to accomplish such a simple task, he wonders why he doesn't just wait for someone to return and help him.

Nick's eyes lock onto Heath's as he looks again at the water and then looks wearily to the left. Nick stumbles slightly forward at the rejected, drawn, and forsaken gaze within Heath's eyes. It is at that moment that he understands why Heath is not waiting for help. Heath doesn't think that anyone is coming. Having always been surrounded by family Nick is unable to comprehend the idea of having no one or even just thinking you have no one. What has life been like for Heath that upon waking up injured he just resolves to the fact that he is on his own?

Unable to continue to bear witness to the struggles of the young blonde, Nick steps out of the shadows just as Heath is making one more attempt to roll to his left. Frightened at the sight of Nick in the room, Heath falls back sending waves of sharp pains through him.

"Woah, there, boy! I'm not gonna hurt you." Nick holds his hands up and takes a step back. "Would you like some water?"

Heath's mouth is so dry he is unable to answer. So he just nods and watches suspiciously as Nick pours some water into the glass before gently lifting his head to help him take a couple of sips. The soothing water relieves the irritation in his throat but is only a tease against the dehydration he feels. Still, it is enough that with all of his efforts since waking, he is unable to stop himself from falling into a reluctant sleep.

Nick eases Heath's head back onto the pillow and then sets the glass on the nightstand. He sits down for a minute in the chair his mother had vacated only a little bit ago and he wonders about the boy in front of him. He looks so young. He is so young. Way too young to be able to handle all the jobs Nick has assigned to him. The boy works harder than any other hand, and he does it without complaint even though Nick assigns him the worst jobs and with men who he has basically given permission to not help him. Yet, every day the job is done.

"Nick?" Victoria questions as she enters the room carrying a tray with a cup of broth and finds Nick sitting beside the sleeping Heath. She can tell from the look of the bed that Heath has been moving and assumes the glass of water she sees on the nightstand is also for him. Setting the tray down she walks over to her big-hearted son who has not even looked up at her and gently places her arms around him. "It's not his fault. Whatever happened between them. It's not his fault."

"I know, Mother." Nick looks up to meet her eyes, his own lined with tears. "I just wish he had never come here and I know that is not fair either. I just get so angry when I look at him and…"

"Were you angry when you helped him drink some water?" Victoria glances over at the glass of water on the nightstand.

"I, ah...no. I was watching him struggle to do it on his own and I didn't know why he just didn't wait for someone to come in. Then it hit me, he didn't think anyone would come in. He thought he was alone. I can't imagine what that must feel like, to have no one."

A slight smile tugs at Victoria's lips as she listens to a slight thinning of the wall Nick has constructed between himself and Heath. There are so many uncertainties that lay ahead but she knows in her heart that they must find a way to accept Heath and make him a part of their family.

"I think that is all he knows, Nick. I don't think he has had many people to depend on." She watches the turmoil behind his eyes as he tries to work through his feelings. Sometimes it takes Nick longer than others to work things out, but once he does he is always fully committed. "You are going to need to talk to him and explain what happened."

"Well, uh, Jarrod is waiting for me at the bunkhouse to talk to the men, so I will see you later, Mother." Nick abruptly rises from the chair and leans over to kiss her cheek. How can he talk with him and explain what happened when he still doesn't know or understand himself? "I'll talk with him tomorrow," he adds as he walks out the door.

* * *

"Duke, I was hoping I could ask you one other question." Jarrod walks over to stand by Duke at the corral. He has spent the morning rounding up the hands that had witnessed Heath's shooting so that he could get an idea of what they saw before they talked with the sheriff. When dealing with Phil Archer, Jarrod knows that he has to be extremely careful and cannot leave anything to chance.

"Sure thing, Jarrod." Duke turns to look over at his boss. He has been with the Barkley's for over twenty years. Tom Barkley had been his friend before his boss and he owes a lot to this family.

"It's about Heath, Duke." Jarrod's critical eye notices the slight cringe at the sound of Heath's name. "Howard found evidence of abuse and I was wondering if you knew who might have done that to him?"

"I was wondering about that Jarrod. Boy's been hugging his ribs when he thinks no one's looking. My guess would be Barret, Snyder, Colb, and Luke. They're the ones Nick's been assigning to go with Heath since he got here and not a one of them have anything nice to say about the boy." Duke looks down a little ashamed. He knows what has been happening but without Nick to back him, there isn't much he can do.

"All four?" Jarrod blurts out. He pictures the men Duke is talking about and they each have a good thirty pounds on Heath.

"Look, Jarrod, Nick ain't exactly been shy about his feelings about Heath and the men, well they follow his lead. Some of them don't want a bastard around." He pauses for a second debating if he should continue. "I like Heath and I know its hard on all of you but that boy is Tom's son. Looks just like him." He doesn't mention that Tom confessed to him about the affair since Tom told him in confidence and he won't break his promise to his old friend. "I've done what I can to help him but without Nick backing me there ain't much I can do."

"I know Duke and hopefully..." He pauses as he sees Nick walking out toward them. "Nick and I will put an end to it today."

* * *

Sheriff Fred Madden is a simple man and a good sheriff. He tries to always be a neutral party and look at the facts of the case before making an arrest. He is sure there is a logical explanation for why Nick shot Heath and the sooner he can find the answer the sooner he can get Phil Archer off his back.

Fred leans back in his chair looking out over his desk. He is sure nothing is going to come of the Barkley shooting and it frustrates him to no end, that it will be taking him away from the other cases he is working on. Standing, he gathers up the wanted sheets scattered on his desk and stuffs them in a drawer. He walks over to grab his hat and leans back with an exaggerated stretch.

Yes, there is nothing he wants more than to get Phil Archer focused on something else. The man seems to have tunnel vision when it comes to anything concerning the Barkleys, though no one knows what exactly he has against them. Fred definitely doesn't want another wakeup call like he had this morning.

" _MADDEN, FRED!" Archer yells as he obsessively pounds on the sheriff's front door. At the slightest crack, Archer pushes the door in and begins pacing around the room not noticing the irate sheriff dressed in only his long johns, with his gun in his hand. Fred notices Archer 's slightly disheveled suit and his bloodshot eyes. "What time will you be heading out to the Barkley ranch? I want those hands interviewed before those Barkleys have the chance to change the story."_

" _Archer, it's five in the morning, the sun hasn't even risen." Fred takes a deep breath and sets his gun back in its holster. Then subtly he starts to usher the obnoxious man back out the front door. "I told Jarrod I'd be over around 10 and he promised to have the men in the bunkhouse waiting. Now there's a reason I'm not a rancher and that is because I don't like to get up with the sun._

He will be so happy when this is over. Gathering up his gun belt he looks over at Scott his newest deputy.

"I'm heading over to the Barkleys. If Archer comes in remind him he needs to stay away while I interview the men." He turns and heads to the door only to have it open as he reaches down for the handle. "Archer, I told…"

He looks up into the face of a man who is fortunately not Archer. The man is probably in his late forties, with a bit of grey showing through his dark hair. Fred's eyes are immediately drawn to the badge he is wearing on his chest.

"Sheriff Madden?" The man holds out his hand to Fred. "Sheriff James Barnes, Placerville. Just wanted to do a courtesy introduction and maybe get directions to the Barkley ranch."

Fred takes the sheriff's hand, "Please call me Fred. I was just heading out to the Barkleys. Mind telling me what business you have with them?"

"Actually, I'm here for Heath Thomson."

Fred takes off his hat and rubs his temples. Phil Archer sure isn't going to like this.


	9. Chapter 9

There is an air of uncertainty hanging heavy over the rafters of the bunkhouse common room as the hands gather, per their normal routine, to grab some grub before being handed their assignments for the day. The talk this morning has streamed in from the night before as the men continue to voice their opinions about the incident in the north pasture. Those men who witnessed the event met with Jarrod this morning and were told they will need to stay behind for part of the morning to talk with the sheriff. Of course, none of them are looking forward to that meeting.

"Hey Red, what are we supposed to tell the sheriff?" Timmy asks. He is new to the Barkley Ranch and while he doesn't really agree with the way Heath is treated, he also needs this job to help take care of his family.

"Tell him the bastard got what he deserves," Barrett laughs and a few other hands join in. He has been on the Barkley Ranch for going on three years and is convinced that Nick has taken a liking to him. He will do just about anything to make sure that doesn't change. "Nick sure did show that good for nothing, freeloader just what he thought of him."

"I'm going to miss making that boy do all our work!" Snyder jokes as he downs the last of his coffee.

"Not to mention, letting off a little steam, now and then," Colb chimes in, as he rubs his fist into his palm, causing them all to bust out laughing again.

The opening of the main door causes all laughter and conversations to stop as they all know better than to voice their own opinions directly to the bosses. They watch as Jarrod returns with Nick and Duke, and wonder why he is back as the three head over to Cookie to get some coffee. The men immediately take notice of Nick's tense posture and make a mental note to tread easily in their dealings with him over the next few weeks. He is a good boss but he has a short temper and no one wants to be on the other end of it when it explodes.

Taking their coffee to an empty table toward the front, the three men look out over the group before them. In the crowd, there are only a few new faces looking back at them, while the rest have been employed here for years and are loyal to the Barkleys. Jarrod places his hand on Nick's shoulder and then steps forward. Clearing his throat, he begins to address them.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Our family thought it best that we discuss what happened yesterday and clear up any confusion there may be concerning Heath." Jarrod looks back with admiration at Nick who is standing hands on his hips staring out at the men. No matter how uncomfortable or unsure he is about a situation, he will do his best to make sure the men don't see it.

"First, I want all of you to know that Heath is going to be fine. He should be back to work in a few weeks." Jarrod doesn't miss the snide remarks being whispered throughout the room and his eyes are instantly drawn to Barrett, Snyder, and Colb who are sitting together, smiling. "We appreciate your help covering until Heath is back on his feet. For those of you who witnessed what happened, I know I met with you earlier, but I wanted to say this in front of all of the men. We just ask that you are honest with the sheriff when he talks with you. Nobody will fault you for being honest and it will not impact your job here."

With that Nick steps forward to stand beside Jarrod. His loud voice fills the room as he takes over where Jarrod left off.

"Yesterday, I saw Gene in trouble and I reacted, that's what happened." Nick's confident stance falters slightly under his own doubts. "Now, most of you know me and you know what kind of man I am. I don't go around shooting people no matter how I feel about them and I ain't exactly been shy about how I feel about that boy. But the fact remains that he is our brother and should be treated as such. Am I clear?" He looks pointedly at Barrett, Snyder, and Colb. "Yes, boss" can be heard echoing throughout the room.

"Good, now Duke has this morning's assignments." Having said all he is going to on the topic, Nick turns and heads out of the room followed closely by Jarrod.

"Guess our fun is over," Snyder says, looking over to his cohorts.

"Nah, boss ain't talking to us. He still wants him gone just as much as we do. You'll see." Barrett gives him a toothy grin while his eyes shine with devilry.

* * *

Heath's second time waking begins with the feel of a light breeze on his face and bare chest and the glow of the morning sun, as someone is pulling back the curtains that cover the windows. This time his confusion clears quickly as he remembers what happened and where he is. He takes note of his body and feels more in control of his limbs as he moves his left arm out from underneath the covers. Thinking it must be Silas in his room getting it ready for the day, he lays still and slowly allows his eyes to open.

"Well, good morning, Heath." Victoria can not help but smile at the dumbfounded look on Heath's face. It is obvious he did not expect to see her standing over him and she quickly moves to stop him from reacting in a way that might cause him pain. "Shh, don't try to talk. Let me help you with some water first."

Heath's eyes never leave her face as she sits down beside him on the bed and gently lifts his head to help him take a few sips of water. The blessed water again soothes his arid throat and he can't help but close his eyes and release a sigh at the relief he feels. Setting the glass back on the nightstand, Victoria reaches down and runs her fingers through his hair causing him to tremble as thoughts of his own mother wash over him.

"You're still running a fever but not too worry the doctor says you are going to be fine," She says as she places her hand on his forehead.

The kindness he sees in her eyes ravage the little resolve he has as the empty hole left in his mother's wake forces his tears to surface. His own mother used to run her fingers through his hair. It is a touch, so loving and gentle, that he never thought he would feel again. For a moment, he allows himself to get lost in the sense of security that comes with such a show of affection, but only until he remembers who and what he is.

"I'm sorry ma'am, you shouldn't have to be subjected to me." He whispers, his voice weak. He uses his left hand to pull the blanket up to his chin and turns his head away as tears escape his eyelids, "If you would be so kind to leave the water close to the edge, I can manage."

Victoria looks down at this boy and realizes how alone in the world he must feel. The one person he trusted, without any doubt, is gone and the only family he has left has treated him like someone unworthy of their time. Then with Nick, his own brother shooting him, he must believe that they want him gone, or worse, that they mean him harm.

"Heath, I know how hard these last couple of months must have been for you. Losing a parent is one of the hardest things we go through in life. I know after my mother died I felt like I was drifting with no anchor to reel me in if I floated off to far." She reaches down and gently turns his face to look at her and can see such desire in his eyes. She grabs his hand, then smiles at him before continuing, "I won't lie to you and tell you that what happened between your parents did not come as a surprise to me, it did. And I won't lie to you and tell you that I haven't struggled to come to terms with it or that I have fully come to terms with it, but I can tell you that none of this is your fault and I am glad you came here. This is where you belong."

Heath hears the honesty in her voice and can see the sincerity in her eyes, but he can't help but be reminded with each painful breath that not all the members of the family feel this way.

"I…," he starts but she quickly cuts him off.

"Just give him some time Heath. Nick just takes a little longer than the others as he has the most to think through, but he will come around. You'll see." She squeezes his hand and gives him no time to respond. "Now, Gene should be back any moment with something for you to put on. I thought that might make you more comfortable." She watches him blush and sink further under the covers when he realizes he is naked.

As if on cue, Gene enters the room with his arms filled with clothes and books. He walks over to the dresser and places the items on the top and then begins putting the clothes in the drawers, with the exception of a pair of sleeping pants and a nightshirt. The clothes he brought in are from the box in the attic that he is planning to donate, but the sleeping clothes are brand new, having just bought them on his last shopping trip in San Francisco before returning home from school. The owner of the store convinced him that they are of the finest quality so he bought two sets, one for home and one to take back with him when he returns to Berkeley. However, upon their earlier discovery that Heath owns nothing, Gene decided the second pair will be a gift to his new little brother.

" _He will probably feel more comfortable when he wakes up again if he has something on." Victoria looks over to Gene who is quietly standing off to the side. "Gene, why don't you grab some sleeping pants and nightshirt out of his dresser and I will have Silas come up and help you get him dressed."_

 _Gene moves over to the dresser and opens the top drawer only to find it completely empty. He then begins to rummage through the other drawers and the closet only to find not one shred of Heath's existence can be found within. He moves over to the chair where he laid Heath's saddlebags last night and looks within them for Heath's belongings. He finds a bible, a shaving kit, one extra shirt, and a tobacco tin held within._

" _Mother, I don't think he has any night clothes or any extra clothes for that matter. All of the drawers are empty and I only found one extra shirt in his saddlebags."_

 _Victoria looks down at the sleeping young man knowing that one day he will share his life with them and she, in turn, will be the only one left that is culpable for all he has suffered._

" _Well, we will just have to get him some new things next time we are in town. For now, run up to the attic and grab some things out of the box with your old clothes. There should be a few things in there that will fit him."_

"Alright, little brother, how would you like to have some clothes on before Audra comes in with some warm broth?" Gene teases as he moves over to the bed with the clothes in his hands. He laughs as Heath turns bright red at the mention of Audra's name. Victoria can't help but join in the laughter at the young blonde's expense.

Heath looks from Gene to Victoria and wonders if he is truly awake. Is it because he is injured that they were being so kind to him or did they truly mean it? His heart yearns for the latter to be true, but his experiences remind him that he is not allowed such an indulgence as that of a real family.

"I, thank ya, but..." Heath swallows hard, slightly embarrassed. "I don't own any and I can't take those from ya."

"Why not? You're my brother right?" Gene waits patiently and is rewarded with a small nod from Heath. It pains him to watch the turmoil playing out behind Heath's eyes. "You'd do it for me right?" Heath nods again. "Then, why won't you let me help you?"

Heath looks up towards the ceiling and tries to find words to explain his reluctance. How do you explain to those who have everything what it is like to fight for everything you have ever owned? He knows that very soon he will be forced to leave, it is what always happens, and he won't take anything that doesn't belong to him.

Recognizing a battle waging inside him, Victoria steps up and tries to calm his fears.

"Heath, you're family and families help each other. It's not a handout, you have more than earned them with all the work you have been doing. And these are just for you to use until the next time you are in town and can get some new clothes for yourself with the money in your account."

"Just don't know what I can spend, I sent money to my Aunt and..." his eyes are starting to close.

"We'll talk with Jarrod later about what is in your account, but for now, before you fall back to sleep, I am sure there are a few things you would like to take care of. Plus, I want you to have a little broth. If that sits well then I will have Silas make you some eggs when you wake up again." She smiles down at him and then moves to take her leave. "Gene, I'll send Silas up to help you."


	10. Chapter 10

Jarrod leans back in his desk chair allowing himself to get lost in the intricate design of the crown molding his father had meticulously chosen to line the study's ceiling. The written statements of the men working in the north pasture on the day of Heath's shooting are scattered on his desk. The words, _Nick looked at Heath kind of strange_ , _I didn't see the snake just Nick pointing his gun, I saw the snake and Gene looking scared. Heath was getting ready to shoot it,_ are looping through his mind as he rubs his hands over his face in frustration. While nothing points to Nick purposely shooting Heath, nothing vindicates him from it either, and if anything, all of their statements combine to give Archer plenty of ammunition to create a reasonable belief that Nick had meant Heath harm.

"How bad is it?" Nick asks, as he stares out the window and then turns around going back to pacing the room as he had been for the last few hours.

"It's bad Nick. Most of the hands said that they didn't see anything and those that did said they didn't know if you were pointing at Heath or the snake. When you put all their statements together it paints a picture of Heath reacting to save Gene and then you shooting him. Either way, if Heath chooses to press charges..."

"I'll be found guilty." Nick stops in front of the window once again.

"Yes." Jarrod stands up and walks over and pours himself some coffee from the service Silas had brought in only moments ago. "You may want to talk to Heath about what happened."

"You mean, I may want to be nice to him," Nick scoffs.

"I think you should be nice to him because he is our brother." Jarrod watches as Nick's shoulders tense up. "Nick, can I ask you, other than exist what has he done? You saw what Barrett, Snyder, Colb and even Luke, did to him and he never said a word AND he made sure all of the work was done. He has been in this house for almost two months and the most we have ever heard him speak was in the barn the other night and during his nightmare last night."

"I JUST DON'T WANT HIM HERE. I've already admitted that he is our brother, but I don't have to like it and I don't have to like him being here!" He turns to face Jarrod. His face reads confusion even if his words seem finite. "And why don't you just step down off your pedestal for a moment? It's not like you have done anything to make him feel welcomed."

"You're right Nick, I haven't, but I intend to try." Jarrod walks over to stand beside Nick, who turns to look out the window unable to hold Jarrod's gaze. Jarrod knows Nick is deflecting the attention away from himself in an attempt to avoid any type of meaningful revelations. "Regardless, I think you should talk to him about what happened, so you both can understand."

Jarrod waits out the abnormally long pause as Nick seems to be internally fighting with his own thoughts.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Nick blurts out, finally admitting what has been eating at him. He turns quickly to face Jarrod, his eyes begging for an insight that seems to be lost to him. "I WANTED to shoot him. To wipe that crooked smile off his face! How could I do that, Jarrod?"

"Nick, you wouldn't shoot a man for no reason. There had to be something that Heath did that caused you to pull the trigger. Even if you misread his actions. You wouldn't just shoot him." Jarrod sets his coffee down on his desk and then turns back to Nick. He takes hold of his brother's shoulders and matches him, eye for eye, in intensity. Squeezing gently, he wills his message to be received. "It's not who you are."

"Are you sure?" Nick's self-doubts, so rarely observed and now painfully being brought to the forefront, force him to break his gaze from Jarrod. "Are you sure," he repeats, his voice riddled with insecurity.

"Yes." Jarrod wraps his arms around his little brother and holds him close. "I'm sure, Nick. I know you better than anyone, little brother."

Nick returns the hug until a knock on the door diverts their attention. He backs away from Jarrod, breaking the embrace, and gives a nod of thanks to his big brother. Walking together into the foyer, Jarrod opens the door to find Sheriff Madden and another gentleman, also wearing a badge, standing with him.

"Fred, please come in." Jarrod opens the door wider and moves aside so the two men can enter.

"Thanks, Jarrod. Nick." Fred nods toward the man standing beside him. "This is Sheriff James Barnes from Placerville. He's here to see Heath." Both brothers take a moment to size up the rather formidable man who towered a good four inches over Nick. He then motions toward the brothers. "This is Jarrod and Nick Barkley."

"Please, call me Jim. And actually, I'm here to see all of you." Barnes steps forward and extends his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Sheriff Barnes. Placerville? I sent a wire to you for Heath a few days back," Jarrod says as he returns the firm handshake. He notices Nick's hesitation and suspicious eye.

"GREAT, what kind of trouble did that boy bring upon this family..." Nick begins to say only to be cut short by an abrupt grab that throws him into the wall beside the entrance to the study. Sheriff Barnes' breath is hot on his cheek and his eyes are boring into him.

"If you so much as lay a hand again on that boy or hurt one more hair on that boy's head, you will have me to deal with. Understand?" Barnes tightens his grip on Nick's shirt and makes no move to allow Nick his freedom. Nick can see the unbridled truth glaring at him.

"Well, I take it you are a friend of Heath's," Victoria says as she walks down the stairs toward them. "Hello, Sheriff Barnes. I'm Victoria Barkley."

"Excuse me, ma'am." He releases Nick and walks over to properly greet Victoria. "I'm James Barnes, please call me Jim. And yes, I'm a good friend of Heath's." He takes a deep breath and bows his head for a minute. "There's something I need to talk with all of you about, especially Heath. Is there somewhere we can all talk?"

They can all tell from his demeanor that whatever it is he needs to discuss with them, it is not good news.

"Of course, Fred will you be joining us?" Victoria looks past Jim, to Fred, who has been standing quietly in the doorway.

"No ma'am, I'll be heading out now. Archer is gonna want the boy interviewed soon, but I'll see if I can stall him for a few days. Good night folks." Fred tips his hat to everyone and then turns and leaves.

* * *

"So you throw the ball, grab the right number of Jacks, then catch the ball after one bounce. That's it?" Laying back on a mound of pillows, Heath eyes Gene skeptically. He had seen the kids in Strawberry play Jacks but always thought there must be more to it than just that.

"It's harder than it sounds," Gene laughs. He has been sitting beside Heath for the majority of the day and while most of it has been spent watching Heath sleep, the blonde finally woke up just about thirty minutes ago. Since then, and only after helping Heath tend to his needs, he has been explaining the game of Jacks to him. The idea that Heath has never played such a common childhood game fills Gene with a million questions, but he is trying to take a slow approach to getting to know this new brother. "You keep going up levels and the winner is the person who picks up the most jacks at once."

Audra looks over at Heath who is hanging on Gene's every word as Gene goes into way more detail than is necessary to explain the simple game. She is sure that Heath would have understood how to play by just saying, throw the ball, pick up jacks, catch the ball, but she can tell Heath is reveling in all the attention. The thought brings a broad smile to her face. If anyone deserves to be doted on she is sure it is Heath.

"When you play I want to join," Audra smiles, "I am deceptively good at Jacks,"

"She isn't lying. She beats all of us." Gene rolls his eyes at his sister. "And don't let her talk you into a game of hearts."

Heath smiles at the pair, his brother and sister. They have been in his room every time he woke up since Mrs. Barkley left this morning. He feels certain that at any moment he will wake up and all of this will be gone, but for now, he decides to just let himself enjoy it. This is a memory he will take with him and hold close when he is finally forced to leave.

"Let's play," Heath says as enthusiastically as his weakened state will allow. He tries to push himself up further on the bed.

"Woah, now!" Gene reaches up to help Heath get settled. Heath is definitely stronger than he was this morning but still far from recovered. "You are going to need to be a bit more mobile before we play and Doc says you have to stay in bed." He laughs at the frown that spreads across Heath's face, remembering how unhappy Heath had been at the instructions Dr. Merar gave him to follow this week. "For now, there's cards, checkers, and I brought up some books. I wasn't sure what you like to read."

"Alright," Heath's voice is heavy with disappointment, but the truth is, he knows he isn't up to it, he just doesn't want this moment to end. "Thanks for bringing the books up. I love to read. I'll read just about anything. I ain't used to having a choice."

These small little insights that Heath slips out so nonchalantly, have been painting a dark picture for both Gene and Audra of what his life was like before coming here. They both know he must have grown up very poor, that much is clear from the little possessions he brought with him. However, it is the small slips that have impacted them the most. The fact that he never played any of the typical childhood games, or that he has never had a choice of what books he wanted to read. The way he savored every bite of the eggs Silas brought him earlier or the childish glee in his eyes over the glass of orange juice that accompanied them.

"Well, you have lots of choices now. I brought up Dickens, Twain, Thoreau, Dumas." Gene says as he gets up to grab the books off the dresser but a light knock on the open bedroom door draws him away from his objective.

"Hey, Heath boy," Sheriff Barnes says as he walks into the room. The rest of the family follows in behind him. Nick stands in the corner arms crossed over his chest. Jarrod pulls up an empty chair for his mother and then goes to lean on the dresser beside Eugene. Heath watches them all with curious eyes but he can't help the delight he feels as Jim walks over toward him.

"Jim!" Heath's face broadens into a full-fledged smile at the sight of his friend.

Jim sits on the edge of the bed beside Heath paying special attention to how pale and thin his young friend is. Reaching down he playfully messes up Heath's hair and then carefully pulls the young man into an embrace making sure not to cause him any harm. The family watches from behind at the comfortable nature between the two, which oddly sends an unwelcome feeling of jealousy through them.

"It's good to see you, Heath. How you been, boy? Heard you ran into a little trouble recently." He scowls over at Nick as he eases Heath back onto the mound of pillows behind him.

"I'm alright, been through worse." Heath takes in the reserved behavior of his good friend, while Gene and Audra tuck this latest slip in with the others. "What are you doing here? Did you get my wire for Aunt Rachel and Hannah?"

Jim averts his eyes away from Heath but too late to stop the ever observant boy from catching the despair within them. He would give anything to never have to hurt this boy, whose compassionate heart has suffered greatly in his short twenty years.

"I did." Jim looks up to meet Heath's eyes. "Heath, how long did your mama make you promise to stay."

"Why?" Heath asks. A gnawing feeling that has been growing in the pit of his stomach since Jim entered the room slowly starts to spread out toward his limbs. "What's going on, Jim?"

"Who made you promise? Promise what?" Gene interrupts. He is trying to understand why this question is being asked. A curiosity that is shared only by Audra as the rest of the family already knows that Heath promised his mama he would come here. They just didn't know there is a time limit on for how long.

"His mama, she made him promise to come here after she passed." Heath glares at Jim who refuses to turn away. He knows he is violating Heath's trust, something that Heath does not give easily, and can only hope Heath will understand. "I'm sorry, Heath, but I need to know. How long?"

"Wait," Gene interrupts again. He walks to the end of the bed and makes eye contact with Heath. "The only reason that you are here is because you promised your mama and you don't plan to stay?"

The tinge of anger lacing Gene's words as they roll off of his tongue rip through Heath's thinned veil as the comradery he felt only a few moments ago with Gene and Audra, has left his heart vulnerable to the dreams of a child. He quickly stores away the memories of jacks and books and prepares himself for the inevitable. He will leave today with Jim.

"I…," Heaths starts, then turns his head away from Jim to look out the window toward the corral. He doesn't want to look at the man who betrayed him as he confesses to the Barkleys and he doesn't want the Barkleys to see the anguish he is feeling about leaving. "She made me promise to come and asked me to stay for six months. Don't know what she was thinking? Never thought I'd be here this long. I'll make sure to settle up for anything I have to take with me."

Jim looks down at Heath and then back to the confused faces of the Barkleys. He can tell they are each battling their own inner conflicts as they all seem to be waiting for the other to say something first. Finally, it is Mrs. Barkley who takes up the reigns of the family and moves to clear up the obvious misunderstanding.

"Heath." Victoria walks over to sit on the bed opposite of Jim. "I told you earlier that this is where you belong and I meant it."

"I thank ya ma'am, but I think we both know that is not true," Heath says, his eyes subconsciously flash to Nick and then back to staring out the window.

"I think…" Victoria solidifies her resolve knowing the next words will be hard for her, "I think your mama knew that it would take some time for everyone to adjust. That is why she made you promise to stay for six months. Will you honor her wishes?"

"Yeah Heath, we are just getting to know you." Gene steps forward, realizing his anger at the thought of Heath leaving was misconstrued by Heath and he wants to make sure Heath knows he wants him here.

"I would like you to stay, Heath," Jarrod says, taking his first steps in changing his attitude toward his new blonde brother. "From the look of the books stacked on your dresser we will have a lot to talk about."

"I'll have to read them first," Heath replies to Jarrod with his signature crooked smile. He tries to contain his elated heart at the family asking him to stay.

Jim smiles at the now blushing Heath, he knows the boy is not comfortable with all the attention, but it is a sight that also warms his heart. Maybe Heath would find what he is looking for within this family after all. The boy is definitely going to need all the support he can get in the coming months. He thinks about the news he is here to deliver and knows it will send another devastating blow to the young man beside him.

"Heath," Jim gently places a hand on Heath's shoulder. "I know I don't have a right to ask after bringing up your mama's request in front of everyone, but I need you to promise me something. There's something I gotta tell you and I need you to promise to let Frank and I handle it."

That gnawing feeling returns tenfold as Heath turns back with questioning eyes at Jim.

"Frank?" Heath asks, knowing only a legal issue would require both men. That gnawing feeling begins to turn to panic as he tries to read Jim's eyes. "What's going on, Jim? I ain't promising nothing until you tell me."

'I ain't telling you nothing until you promise and we both know I can be just as stubborn as you. Plus, it sounds like you are going to be here for the next four months at least, anyways."

Heath knows he's right. Not only does he feel himself slipping back into a need for sleep, he did just agree to fulfill his mama's wishes, and he can barely get out of bed. Still, he doesn't like the feeling he is being backed into a corner.

"Fine! I promise, now tell me what this is about."

"Heath, It's the Simmons," Jim states as flatly as possible. "Some judge signed a release that cut short Martha's sentence from Ophir and, well, Matt, he escaped from San Quentin, looks like an inside job."

Heath begins shaking his head and instinctively rocking back and forth as he listens in disbelief to the nightmare words coming from his friend. He looks up at Jim and then around the room to this family as fear tightens its grip around his heart and takes his breath sending the darkness closing in around the corners of his eyes until he knows no more.


	11. Chapter 11

He was five years old the first time his uncle tried to kill him. Fortunately, with time, most of the memory has faded into distant images too abstract to decipher clearly. The one image that remains burned forever in the creases of his mind is the crazed righteousness of the eyes that gleamed with such delight as his life slowly began to fade away. It is those eyes that appeared with each subsequent attempt on Heath's life and those eyes that haunt him to this day. He knows, if they are free, it is only a matter of time before they come after him.

The feel of the cold damp cloth being gently pressed against his face and neck does little to calm the rapid beating of his heart as flashes from his past torment his thinking. From the beatings at the hand of his uncle when he was unlucky enough to be caught, to the traps they would purposely set out in his path, his aunt and uncle have never faltered in their hatred for him or in their belief that he somehow is the cause of all their misfortunes. He barely survived his last encounter with them and even though that was so many years ago the mere thought of them being able to reach him grips him with a paralyzing fear. So he remains motionless, laying on the bed with his eyes closed, knowing that the moment he looks back up at Jim, Jim's words will become a truth he cannot escape from.

"JUST WHO ARE THE SIMMONS?" Nick patience is running thin. He had seen the terrified look in the boy's eyes and whether or not he wants to admit it, it tugged at his protective nature.

Victoria looks back at Nick who until this moment has been standing quietly behind her. She can see he is bothered by the reaction Heath had to the news of these people's release and knows his loud response is so typical of the family protector. She looks back at Jim, who is sitting across from her, gently encouraging Heath to open his eyes and completely ignoring her loud son.

"My brother does come on a tad strong but Nick is asking an important question and one I think we all have a right to know. I assume you feel this will affect us all." Jarrod steps up and walks over to stand by Nick as a show of support for his younger brother. He did not miss Heath's reaction to the news and is already trying to think of ways he may need to protect his family. A family which he happily realizes does include Heath.

Jim pauses from his ministrations and bows his head with a loud sigh. Knowledge can be a powerful tool but it is also a heavy burden to bear. He knew the news about the Simmons would be hard for Heath to hear and he did debate whether or not to hold off on telling him after Fred let him know how Heath was injured, but he also knows his other news cannot wait any longer. Heath has a right to know all that has happened in the last couple of weeks.

"There's more isn't there?" Victoria senses an internal war raging in the man across from her. She watches as his hand balls into a fist and as he dejectedly slumps his shoulders.

"Yeah." Jim turns to look at Victoria. "There's more and I'd give anything not to tell him." His voice falters, an unnerving prospect to all in the room coming from such a rugged man.

"Alpha?" The voice from the bed barely above a whisper draws their attention back to Heath. Heath's eyes are still closed but the shift in his breathing lets them know he is fully awake again.

"Hey, Heath, you gonna open them eyes, son?" Jim encourages. He takes the cloth and again presses it to the sides of Heath's neck. "Alpha's fine, Heath. As soon as I got the wire from Frank, I sent one to Dave and the Sheriff in Modesto. They will be keeping an eye on Alpha."

The family exchange glances wondering who these people are that Jim is talking to Heath about but they watch as he nods in recognition of the words spoken. Heath gradually opens his eyes and looks directly at Jim searching for some minuscule piece of evidence that all that has been said is a mistake. Instead, he only sees anguish and concern staring back at him.

"Aunt Rachel! Hannah!" Heath jolts up, startling everyone, unconcerned with the amount of pain the action causes him. He starts to throw back the covers when two strong hands wrap around his arms holding him still. The family closes in around the bed showing a growing solicitude over his well-being.

"Heath, boy. Look at me. I already went to Strawberry. I went there first, as soon as I heard. I figured that would be where they were headed."

Heath allows his body to relax back into Jim's hands. His ribs and wound are screaming at him for making such a sudden movement.

"Did ya take 'em somewhere safe or leave someone with them?" Heath searches Jim's face only to be stonewalled by his lack of expression. "I won't be able to go myself for a while yet."

"Heath." Jim pauses, he can hear the desperation in Heath's voice. He looks down over his young friend, but instead of the man he has become, he sees the three-year-old boy he met standing outside Ms. Hannah's cabin cradling an injured grasshopper in his hands. The grasshopper had broken its back legs and was unable to hop. The boy was telling the grasshopper how Ms. Hannah was going to fix him up and then he could go home to his family. He had never seen a child that age be so calm or so gentle. He thought for sure when Ms. Hannah saw that bug she was going to shoo the child away, but she didn't. She reached down and took the grasshopper just as gently as she could, then leaned over and kissed the boy on his head and told him to never let anyone change his heart and Heath never did. "Heath, the Simmons had already been there by the time I arrived."

"NO!" Heath screams. The tears already starting to fall. "Are they…," he starts only to be thwarted by the lump forming in his throat.

The family watches with dread seeing the devastated look in Heath's eyes. Only Jarrod has a small idea of who these women are to Heath, but it is plain to all in the room that they are very important to him.

"Hannah is fine. A little shaken up but not hurt. She is at Doc Harn's place. Lula is expecting again and they asked Hannah to stay with them, so she agreed. I have Sammy keeping an eye on her." Jim's own tears begin filling his eyes. He curses fate for allowing yet another blow to befall this boy, especially so soon after his mother's death. "Rachel…," he fights down his own emotions.

"Yea... Aunt Rachel?" Heath can't stop the tears now cascading down his face. His eyes reach out to anyone around him begging them to change the truth he can see in Jim.

'Heath, I'm so sorry son. She's gone, Heath. She fell into a mine shaft. I buried her next to your mama."

Heath's eyes go blank and he crumbles boneless and sobbing into Jim's arms. Jim does his best to console the grieving boy, though his own body is racked with guilt. The guilt of having to deliver this news and the guilt over not arriving in Strawberry fast enough to save Rachel. He looks over around the room to the family bearing witness to the devastation and takes notice that they are all moved to tears over the pain Heath is feeling.

Victoria reaches over and takes Heath's hand in hers, gently squeezing to let him know she is there, while Audra runs over, her own tears blurring her vision, to sit by her mother. She places her own hand on top of Victoria's and Heath's hands as a show of solidarity with them both. Gene kneels down beside Jim and Heath and begins rubbing Heath's back repeating over and over that he is here for him, while Jarrod and Nick stand at the end of the bed looking out over the scene before him. Their hearts can't help but be moved.

"She would never…" Heath mumbles between sobs, his face still buried in Jim's chest.

"I know, it was them. When I got to the cabin I found Hannah hiding, scared. She told me they had come by asking questions and dragged Rachel out. She thought they were going to come back for her so she hid." Jim pulls the boy in tighter trying to help him feel secure. "Heath, Frank and I will find them and will bring them to justice."

"I'd like to be alone now." Heath pushes away from Jim and allows Jim to help him sink back into the pillows. He turns his face back to the window that looks out over the corral but no one dares to move. "Please," he asks simply, the tears still streaming down his face.

With this request, Gene moves from Heath's side but not before giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. Jim runs his hand over the boy's head but getting no response he stands to respect Heath's wishes and is followed to the door by Jarrod and Nick. Victoria grips Heath's hand tightly and then meets the others by the door. It is Audra who surprises them all when she leans over and kisses Heath on the check.

"Heath, just remember you're not alone," Audra says as she gets up to follows the others and is the last to leave.

When he hears the click of the door closing, Heath's anger joins his grief. Why? Why must everyone he loves be taken from him? He searches the room through blurred vision, desperately looking for the one item he possesses that has carried him across this life of pain and loneliness. He finally spots it sitting on the edge of the dresser across the room from him. His bible, it is the only real item he owns. It was given to him by his Mama when he returned from the war and it has never left his side since.

Slowly, painfully he pushes back the covers and slides his legs over the edge of the bed so that his feet touch the floor. Using every ounce of strength he has, he raises himself to his feet only to be caught off guard by a wave of dizziness that almost sends him to his knees. Steadying himself with his hand on the headboard, he pushes himself towards his goal and with each painful step he thinks of how his Mama and his Aunt Rachel have been needlessly taken from him. Reaching out he grabs the bible from the edge of the dresser and the leans on its side. Unable to make the journey back across the room, he slides down using the wall and the dresser to stabilize him.

Sitting with his back against the wall, he wraps his arms around his anchor and gives fully into his anger and grief.


	12. Chapter 12

"ALRIGHT START TALKING. WHO THE HELL ARE THE SIMMONS? AND WHILE YOU'RE AT IT MIND TELLING US WHO HANNAH AND RACHEL ARE AND WHY THAT BOY UPSTAIRS IS SO DEVASTATED." Nick burst unable to contain himself once they enter the parlour.

Jim runs his hands over his face as he walks toward the fireplace to lean on its mantle. Telling Heath about Rachel is probably the hardest thing he has ever had to do and he needs a minute to collect himself before he answers this family's questions.

"Jarrod, I think we could all use a drink. Would you be so kind as to serve everyone?" Victoria urges, trying to give everyone a minute to catch their breath after witnessing such a harrowing scene. She knows her own heart is still breaking and can only imagine what Jim, Gene, and Audra must be feeling. Taking a seat on the settee she motions to Audra to come sit beside her and then she looks toward Gene who's absently lowering himself into a chair.

Jarrod, seeing the wisdom in his mother's request, obediently goes to the drink cart and begins pouring then serving each person a drink. Jim takes the offered glass of bourbon and quickly downs the fiery liquid looking to calm the rising tide of anger at the injustice he was just forced to deliver. He turns back to face the family. He knows they need the answers to their questions in order to fully understand the stakes in this horrid game.

"Rachel Caulfield and Hannah James were Leah's best friends. They helped to raise Heath. Together they created a kind of small family. He used to joke he had three mothers." The gasp from Audra tells him to pause. He looks over at her and can see the love she has for Heath and that warms his heart. "So I am sure you can imagine how hard this will be on him so soon after Leah."

He looks around the room and can see the understanding in their eyes. Regardless of whether or not they can all accept Heath, he finds comfort in the fact that none of them are heartless.

"And you are sure it wasn't an accident. Her falling into the mine shaft?" Jarrod questions, his lawyer instincts needing to be completely satisfied.

"I am," Jim answers resolutely. "Rachel had been in Strawberry since the mine opened. She knew every shaft and every place to avoid. There ain't no way she would have stepped in one on accident. Then with what Hannah told me, there ain't no question in my mind about what happened."

"And the Simmons? Who are they?" Nick swallows the rest of his drink and then leans, glass in hand, on the back of the settee where Victoria and Audra are sitting.

"They are Heath's real aunt and uncle." Jim takes a deep breath. "Matt Simmons was Leah's brother. I don't know the history of how they all got to Strawberry, but I know they all came together including his wife Martha."

"WHAT?" Gene explodes out of his chair poignantly expressing the disbelief of the whole family. "But, he was terrified when you told him they were free."

"Why would he be so afraid of them?" Audra's innocence pours off of her with this simple question.

"Matt and Martha Simmons blamed every bad thing that happened on Heath. The lack of guests at their hotel, the mine playing out, they even blamed him for changes in weather. But mostly they hated him for the shame his existence brought on their family as if the boy had a say in being born." Jim pauses missing Nick's flinch at his words. He walks over and takes a seat in an empty chair near Gene. He needs to settle himself in order to tell the rest of the story. "Matt's been trying to kill Heath since before he was born. Used to trip Leah while she was working hoping one of the times she'd land on her stomach and lose the baby. Leah was able to keep Heath away from them early on but when Leah had the audacity," his voice dripping with sarcasm, "to fight for Heath to be allowed in school, well that was the first time he physically tried to kill Heath."

The breaking of glass pulls them back into the room and reminds them of their need to breathe as tears pour down the faces of Audra and Victoria. Victoria reaches over to place her arms around her sheltered daughter hoping to comfort her from the realities of the world. The shattered glass now laying strewn across the parlour floor belongs to Nick whose own doubts about accepting Heath do nothing to calm his fury over the actions of Matt Simmons.

"Physically tried to kill him?" Gene looks up to Jim who nods in confirmation. He can feel his insides turning as he imagines a small towhead boy being attacked by a grown man.

"He was her brother. How could he do that?" Audra angrily yells, her Barkley temper shining through. Victoria and Audra tighten their hold on each other. Jarrod notices his mother becoming paler and paler as she listens to Jim speak.

"What did you mean fight for Heath to attend school?" Jarrod asks as he walks over to refill everyone's glass and hand Nick a new one.

"Town didn't want a bastard in school with the other children and the Simmons didn't want the family shame being shown to all the good folk of Strawberry. But Leah…" this thought makes him smile, "she was something else. She loved that boy and she sure was a spitfire when it came to fighting for him. They finally allowed it but he only lasted about a year. The town and the school made sure Leah knew Heath would be safer at home. After that Rachel taught him between jobs." He knows he doesn't need to explain what he means by Heath being safer at home than at school. He is sure they understand his meaning.

"So that's why they went to prison?" Victoria stammers. The weight of Heath's reality, debilitating in its horridness, tearing at her soul. Tom was to blame for this, and in his stead, she is to blame.

"For trying to kill a bastard," he frowns at their naivety, "No, they went to prison because on one of their attempts two boys from town happened to be with Heath and were injured. The town wasn't about to have that. So they were arrested for the attempts on those boys' lives. Didn't matter that Heath saved the other boys or that Heath almost died."

"What happened?" Jarrod asks, encouraging Jim to continue. He can tell the family's reserves are thinning but he feels they owe it to Heath to hear the whole story.

"It was his twelfth birthday." Jim begins. He leans back in his chair and rubs his sweaty palms on his thighs. "My nephews. Alpha and Teddy wanted to do something nice for Heath. Alpha is about a year older than Heath and Teddy was a few years older than Alpha." The family doesn't miss the past tense expression used when talking about Teddy. "See, Heath wasn't allowed to associate with any of the other kids, so most of the time if you saw him he was talking to some animal or another. The boys knew him cuz he worked for my brother Dave at the livery in the afternoon after working in the mines."

"The mines?" The words slip out of Nick's mouth before his mind is sure he wants an answer.

"Yeah, Heath started working as a trapper or a breaker boy after they finally got Leah to pull him out of school. I think he was about seven at the time but small for his age." Jim doesn't miss their tortured gazes. "My brother used to catch Heath talking with the horses and when he was about nine, Dave asked him if he wanted to work there part-time. You would have thought it was Christmas and his birthday the way Heath reacted at the thought of getting to work with the horses. It was while he was working that my nephews tried to get to know him better. Heath would talk a little but kept his distance."

"Why? Didn't he want to have friends?" Gene is leaning forward, rubbing his hands together absently. The little slips from Heath had given him a glimpse of his life but nothing prepared him for what this man was telling him about his little brother's upbringing.

"Course he did, what child doesn't. Boy only had his horses and they don't talk back. But he was so worried that he would get fired or someone would see them talking to him, that he kept his distance. I think his uncle had a lot to do with that as well. Heath constantly had bruises on his face or a black eye. He would limp in sometimes or have trouble bending over. The whole town knew what the Simmons did to that boy but no one would say anything and my brother didn't know what to do. I had moved to Placerville years before and even if I was there, the law does little to protect children like Heath." He looks over at Jarrod who nods in agreement. "So, my brother just tried to make Heath's life a little better."

Silas walking in to announce that dinner will be ready in about an hour gives them all a moment of reflection. Their lives have been so simple. Growing up they never wanted for anything. They were never afraid for their lives or forced to work instead of going to school. They had a plethora of friends, as everyone wanted to associate in some ways with the most prominent family in the valley.

"This went on for a few years. The boys working on breaking down Heath's barriers until he finally would talk to them. They even got him to go swimming with them a few times. One day, Alpha overheard Heath telling one of the horses about his birthday and how he was going to be twelve and his mama was going to bake him an apple pie. Alpha and Teddy came up with a plan to take the boy out for the afternoon. Ya know fishing, swimming, just fun stuff. They knew Heath would refuse so that got Dave in on it. Dave convinced Heath to go and to let him pay him for the day. The kid is so stubborn about letting anyone help him."

The fight over the sleeping clothes flashes through Gene's mind.

"Dave could tell Heath was excited, even got one of those full smiles from him. The boys were so determined to make it the best birthday Heath had ever had."

"And somehow the Simmons found out," Jarrod surmises.

"Yep, laid a trap they thought would only get Heath. By now the town was all but dead. Even Dave knew he would be leaving soon. In the Simmons' twisted brains if they got rid of Heath then things would be better. The problem was the trap they set nearly killed all three boys and if it wasn't for Heath, Alpha would be dead."

"What kind of trap?" Nick asks.

"Dynamite, a bucket full laying on the side of the road. Matt wasn't too far off with a rifle aimed and ready. Heath and Alpha were walking by it when Teddy saw Martha. They fired, Heath grabbed Alpha and got a piece of shrapnel in his back. Alpha hit his head and broke his leg. Teddy got some splinters in his arms and chest." He stands abruptly, startling the family who is hanging on his every word. "The town Doc fixed up Alpha and Teddy but refused to help Heath, said he didn't treat charity cases or those who were brought into this world by sin. Dave drove Leah and Heath to Placerville where our friend, Dr. Harn took care of Heath. The boy barely made it and it was weeks before he was back on his feet."

He walks over to the fireplace again and leans on the mantle, taking a moment to collect himself before turning back to the family to finish the story.

"Anyway, the town was outraged that Alpha and Teddy were almost killed and they had the Simmons arrested. Martha is insane and was sentenced to live the rest of her days in Ophir Sanitarium and Matt was sentenced to twenty years in San Quentin."

He walks back over and sits down in the chair mentally and physically exhausted. The stunned faces of all the Barkleys all watching his every move.

"Why didn't Leah tell us?" Victoria whispers having given into her grief.

"I don't know." Again, Jim stops, taking a moment to decide how much to say. "I'm sorry ma'am, a few of us knew who Heath's father was but it wasn't our place to say anything and Leah was adamant that no one tell him. But I don't know why."

"I take it some of the scars we saw on his back are from his uncle?" Nick inquires, the guilt of his initial reaction coming back to haunt him.

"Some, yes." Jim stops as if contemplating something, then continues, "That couple is evil, pure evil."

"And you think they will come after Heath?" Jarrod meets Nick's eyes and knows they were thinking the same thing.

"I do." Jim looks around the room again. "I think they had almost eight years to think on it. Now, Frank and I have some leads on where they might be but I…"

"Who is this Frank?" Nick interrupts.

"Frank Sawyer, Heath was his deputy for about a year."

"Marshall Frank Sawyer, out of the Spanish camp?" Nick looks doubtfully at Jim.

Jim nods leaving Nick stunned and then continues, "we have some leads, but I gotta know that Heath will be safe here. If y'all don't want to protect him I can take him with me."

"HE'S OUR BROTHER, OF COURSE, WE'LL PROTECT HIM." Audra's yell matches Nick for intensity leaving her brothers, even a reluctant Nick, no choice but to nod in agreement.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that." He smiles over to Audra.


	13. Chapter 13

The scraping of silver against porcelain is the only sound that can be heard coming out of the dining room, signaling to Silas to enter and begin clearing away the barely touched plates. The family, who has been sitting here for the last hour carefully rearranging the placement of food in front of them, barely notices as each dish disappears. Their occasional glances toward the ceiling send the message to all in the room that their thoughts are preoccupied with the grieving boy alone in the room above them. The information that Jim has divulged to them concerning Heath's upbringing and the seriousness of the situation concerning the Simmons is repeating over and over in their minds, churning their emotions into a befuddled web of guilt and sadness.

"Shall we move back into the parlour for our after dinner drinks? I am sure there is more we need to discuss concerning the situation with the Simmons." Victoria looks around the room at her children and then rests her eyes on Jim, whom she had asked to stay for dinner.

Almost subconsciously, the group slowly rises from their chairs and begins the journey into the next room. As they enter, they each find their way to the seats they had previously occupied and take note of the coffee service and dessert tray that Silas has already placed on the coffee table between them. Victoria leads the group in helping herself to some coffee as they all look to one another to begin.

"You mentioned you found evidence that the escape of Matt Simmons was an inside job. Do you think that is also the reason Martha was released?" Jarrod begins. He looks over to where Jim is now sitting. Throughout dinner, he had been carefully dissecting the information that had been given to them and started to organize it mentally into a more legal framework.

"I think so, but I don't have any proof. It was a Judge George Tyrone that signed the release but I am not sure what his connection is or why he would release her," Jim says as he takes the cup of coffee being handed to him by Audra. "Thank you, Miss."

"George Tyrone?" Victoria looks up knowingly to Jarrod. "He is a friend of ours. His son Buddy is my godson."

"So there is the connection but not the reason." Jim meets Victoria's eyes and then sends a questioning look to Jarrod. "From all I can find on him he follows the law, but the order was written with no recommendations from the superintendent."

"He takes the law very seriously." Jarrod leans forward glancing over at Nick. They have known the Tyrone family since they were children. _What possible reason could there be?_ He wonders. "I can't imagine that he would be involved in anything uncouth."

"Everybody has a price, Jarrod, and it's not always about money." He watches as Jarrod straightens up in his seat and starts to rebuke his statement only to then see the wisdom of his words and remain silent. He glances over at Nick and is surprised to see a hint of recognition of the truth he speaks. "I'd appreciate it if you don't mention to him that I am looking into it."

"Of course." Jarrod agrees though he is already working out how he might be able to get some answers without breaking his word.

"And the Simmons? I'll post extra men around the house to keep watch and can make sure none of the family is traveling alone." Nick finally joins in knowing that the responsibility of protecting the family, all of the family, will fall on his shoulders. He needs to understand what needs to be done. He leans back in his chair and looks directly at Jim crossing his arms over his chest. "You said you had leads?"

Jim takes a moment to scrutinize all that is Nick Barkley. The stubborn pride must be a Barkley trait for he can not count the number of times he has seen the same look in Heath's eye. Nick's loud demeanor and protective nature are worn proudly for all to see and there is an air of confidence that exudes from him. Nick Barkley is a natural born leader. He knows that Nick is the reason Heath is laid up and he wonders what really lead to the shooting, but he also senses that if Nick can get past the anger he feels at Heath's existence the two will end up being the best of friends.

"Frank sent wires to the local lawmen of the surrounding areas looking for any tips on where those two might be hiding and who they might be working with. I had a wire waiting for me when I arrived this morning saying to meet him in Modesto," he pauses for a moment as a debilitating wave of exhaustion rolls over him. The constant worry he has felt over last few days coupled with the harrowing confession only hours ago has left him feeling completely drained. "I don't know what he found but I know Frank won't stop looking until he knows Heath is safe."

"Seems like a lot of trouble for a marshall to go to for an ex-deputy." Nick leans over and pours himself some coffee seeing how it seems Audra purposely forgot him when she served Gene and Jim.

"Well, if you take the time to get to know Heath you'll understand," Jim smirks. Audra giggles at the obvious tension between the two men. She feels certain that if Jim were to stay around there would be some ego wrestling between them.

"He means a great deal to you?" Victoria reaches over and places her hand on Jim's arm drawing his attention away from Nick.

"Yes, ma'am, he does." He glances back toward the stairs. "Heath stayed with my wife and I while he was recovering after the attack on him and my nephews. His Mama was afraid she would lose what little work she had. So, once we knew Heath was going to survive, she went back to Strawberry. It broke her heart to leave him. He was with us for about three months."

"It took him three months to recover?" Jarrod questions, trying to ascertain just how serious Heath's injuries had been.

"No," he chuckles, "that boy is so stubborn the last month he worked to repay us and the doctor. Fortunately, he didn't really know what the doctor's services cost and we were able to keep him from overdoing it. I've tried to keep in touch with him since then."

"He's lucky to have you." Victoria smiles at Jim seeing the admiration he feels for Heath shining through his eyes.

"No Ma'am." He looks around the room purposely making eye contact with each family member as he continues, "I'm lucky. Most people go through life never meeting someone like Heath. That boy has lived a few lifetimes in his short life. He has suffered and somehow survived with his heart intact. Just wish I could do more to protect him."

The whole family is struck by the sincerity in his voice as he speaks about Heath in such a high regard.

"Well, he's got us now. So we can help," Gene says as he rises from his chair. "I'm going to go up and check on him."

"Mind if I go up and say goodbye?" Jim sets his coffee cup down and rises from his chair. Nick and Jarrod proceed to rise as well. "I have something Hannah asked me to give to him."

"You're welcome to stay the night. I am sure Heath would like to see you in the morning." Victoria can sense the struggle Jim is feeling about leaving.

"I thank you but I'm catching the first train to Modesto." He smiles at Victoria. "Ma'am, if you'll excuse me for a moment I just need to grab something out of my saddlebag." He turns and heads out the door as the family watches him leave.

* * *

Archer looks up from the notes sprawled across his dining table with a large smile on his face. He would have never imagined that such a simple request would create a domino effect of this magnitude. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have thought that Nick Barkley is capable of shooting an innocent boy. An insane turn of events that is definitely not his fault but one that requires him to follow through with the law. A task he joyfully plans to execute with the utmost vigilance.

The only thing left for him to do is interview the boy, a thought which fills him with glee even though he knows without his testimony the case will fall apart. He is confident that this Heath Thomson will be more than happy to testify. How could he not be with the way the Barkleys, more importantly how Nick Barkley, has treated him since his arrival? What person wouldn't want justice for all the wrongs they have suffered because some rich man wandered? The compilation of testimonies from the hands who were interviewed today by Fred and the boy's testimony will ensure an indictment is handed down. When that happens even the great San Francisco attorney Jarrod Barkley won't be able to stop the guilty verdict at the trial.

Still smiling he gets up from the table and walks over to pour himself a congratulatory drink. He has not had many breaks in his life, and he learned the hard way that anything he hopes to achieve will only be gained through hard work and perseverance. Yet, somehow fate has intervened on his behalf and has taken pity on him by granting him a moment to shine. A moment to show the world the true face of privilege and then allow him the honor of crushing it under the power of the common man.

A knock on the door draws him out of his daydreaming and back to the present. He isn't expecting anyone this evening, and he is not someone who normally has visitors at his home with most people choosing to meet him in his office in town. Setting his drink down on the table he walks over and somewhat hesitantly begins to open the front door. As soon as the crack begins to form between the door and its frame a hand takes hold and pushes it further open allowing its owner to stumble inside. Instant recognition spreads across Archer's face as the man straightens up before him.

"You?" Archer yells, "What the hell are you doing here? You know better than to come to my house."

"I had to see you. This has gone too far. You never said nothing about Nick getting in trouble, just that Thomson kid." Billy looks up at Phil Archer the distress clear in his eyes. Phil can tell from the odorous stench coming from the young man that he just left Harry's.

"Well if you had dropped the snake in front of Thomson and not Gene then maybe Nick wouldn't have shot him. I can't help what happened but I have to follow the law. There is nothing we can do about it."

"You could not prosecute," Billy pleads.

"Really? And how would that look to the whole town, like I show favoritism to the Barkleys and then they would investigate me, which would lead to you, and then to your brother. Is that what you want?"

Billy looks down at his boots and shakes his head. Damn his brother and his schemes leaving him scrambling to pick up the pieces and vulnerable to the plots of powerful men.

"Good. Speaking of your brother, I received a wire today from the judge presiding over his trial. Ten years is the best he can do but at least he won't hang." Archer starts to guide the distraught drunken man back toward the front door. "You best leave and be careful no one sees you. You don't want the Barkleys to think you are helping me. They would fire you for sure and then what would your poor mother do?"

Billy bows his head in shame and turns to head back towards the front door. Archer is right, there really is nothing he can do to stop the ripple effect that occurred when he placed the snake near the fencing tools, but he had to try. In his mind, he figures it is the least he can do to try and make amends for all the trouble his actions have caused. Stepping out onto the front porch, he takes one more look behind him as the door quickly closes in his face. He curses his circumstances one more time before he sneaks back out into the dark of the night.

Inside, Archer walks back over to his drink and quickly downs the amber liquid before placing the glass back on the dining room table. He walks over to his tuba, proudly displayed in the center of the room, and slowly falls down to his hands and knees. Working his fingers into a small groove on the wood plank directly beside the instrument stand's leg, he carefully pulls the piece of wood out of its position and lays it off to the side. Reaching his arm under the floor in the opening he created, he gently pulls out a small iron box that he is gripping firmly in his hand. _Cause a distraction the telegraph had said. Use Thomson it had ordered._


	14. Chapter 14

Exhaustion reigns over the Barkley household as Jim, Gene, and Nick, again find themselves dragging their feet up the flight of stairs toward the once guest bedroom that is now occupied by a person who is becoming increasingly more important to the Barkleys. The rest of the family, realizing that a room full of people might be overwhelming to Heath, chose to either head to their rooms or in Jarrod's case, isolate himself in the study where he can further dissect the facts of events leading up to today. For the group making their way down the hall toward Heath's door, they each have their own reasons for wanting to check on Heath. Jim, who is nervously twisting the small package Hannah sent for the boy in his hands, is hoping that some comfort will come from the gift within. Gene is hoping his acceptance of Heath will help him to not feel so alone, and Nick is selfishly hoping that with each time he faces the boy some essence of clarity will resolve parts of his confusion.

Knocking on the closed door, Gene places his ear against it and listens for an invitation to enter. When no answer is forthcoming, he quietly pushes open the door thinking that Heath must be asleep and is greeted by the pitch black of a lightless room as even the open windows harbors no shine courtesy of a cloudy, moonless night. Using the light from the lamps in the hall, the men slowly enter, with Gene swiftly moving to relight the lamp on their side of the bed just enough to give them sight into the room but not enough to disturb Heath in his sleep.

As the light begins to fill the room, he shifts his view to the bed only to find an empty indentation where Heath should be laying. He immediately glances toward the open windows and is struck by an intense fear that grips his heart, the fear of losing this new brother. Gene looks desperately to Jim and Nick, who are also moving further into the room and then quickly heads past them and towards the windows. Lost in fear, he misses the bare feet protruding beyond the edge of the dresser and ends up tripping over them and falling on his knees.

"Heath!" Gene exhales, the relief he feels overshadowing any pain the fall might have caused. He takes a moment to look over the deeply sleeping Heath before shifting his view back to Nick and Jim who are walking toward them. Even with his stoic posture, he can tell that his older brother is just as relieved as he is that Heath is safely asleep on the bedroom floor. Unable to hold his gaze, Nick veers off to light the lamp on this side of the bed before returning to stand behind Gene.

Jim walks over and kneels down beside them as he looks at the impact his words had on the boy he has over the years grown to love. Tears stain Heath's cheeks and even shut his eyes are red and swollen, a testament to the grief he released once alone in the room. In his laxed arms lays a bible that Jim immediately recognizes as the one Heath's mama gave him. The image stirs a memory in him of Heath sharing that throughout the years and all the hardships he has faced, this bible is the one thing that calms him. Moving in closer, he carefully lifts Heath's arm and takes the bible out from underneath it and then sets it down behind him. He gently squeezes the boy's shoulder trying to rouse the sleeping young man. Startled by his touch Heath flares awake and immediately raises his left arm to ward off the expected blow, a sight the sends outrage through all of them.

"Hey boy, it's okay. It's just me, Jim." Jim watches as Heath's eyes slowly open and his tense frame slowly eases back against the wall when he realizes who is beside him. "Let's get you back to bed. What do you say?" A question to which Heath's only response is to lay his head against the dresser and close his eyes.

Without another word, Jim reaches down and lifts Heath into his arms carrying him back toward the bed as Gene quickly jumps up and runs over to move the covers for him. Gently laying Heath down, Jim tucks his legs underneath the sheets and pulls the blanket up to his chest. He sits down beside the boy on the bed and picks up the work-worn hand closest to him. Gene backs away to stand by Nick and give the two men some privacy.

"Alright, I know you're awake. I'm sure you're exhausted but I need to head out and wanted to say goodbye. I also have a little something that Hannah sent for me to give you and you know I won't break my promise to her. So how about opening your eyes for me?" Jim squeezes Heath's hand and patiently waits for him to respond.

A small slit gradually appears underneath the puffy lids of mournful eyes and Jim sees a glimpse of Heath's expressive sky blues watching him closely. He reaches over with his free hand and runs his fingers through the young man's hair and then gradually settles the hand on his cheek.

"Awe Heath. I'm so sorry, boy. I'd give anything to have Rachel here." He tries to give him a reassuring smile. "Listen," he says, as he begins to unwrap the package he brought in and takes out a small toy horse. The horse is clearly old and has thin lines that run awkwardly through it. "Hannah asked me to give this to you, to remind you how much you are loved. She said you'd be seeing each other soon and to remember your Mama, Rachel and she are always with you."

He sets the horse on the nightstand beside the bed and notices as sorrowful azul eyes follow the horse from hand to table, a single tear escaping the watery pools. Heath says nothing, as he is too consumed with grief, but he squeezes Jim's hand letting the older man know he heard him and that he appreciates the gesture. Jim returns the pressure to the hand he is holding and then gently lifts the boy up into a comforting hug, the same type of hug Jim has delivered many times to his own children. The type of hug that a boy like Heath has rarely felt.

"We're all here for you Heath, whatever you need," he whispers. "I think you'll find even this new family of yours wants to help if you'll let them." He remains holding him until he gradually feels the muscles in Heath's back relax and his breathing return to a slow even pace, then he lays the sleeping boy back down on the bed. Affectionately patting Heath's cheek one last time, Jim stands to leave.

Behind him, Gene and Nick bear witness to the touching scene and are once again filled with wonder at the amount of devotion this man has for their new brother. What kind of person must Heath be to elicit such a response from those around him? As they stand there quietly observing the two men in front of them, Nick feels the heel of his boot brush up against the discarded bible behind him. Remembering how Heath had the bible cradled in his arms when they first entered, Nick realizes this bible must be very comforting to Heath and decides to set it beside the horse on the nightstand. As he reaches down to pick up the book he notices some papers starting to fall out from within the pages and quickly uses his other hand to grab them. He is immediately struck by the picture of his father, younger in age, standing next to and with his arm around a very beautiful, very young woman.

* * *

"JARROD!" Nick burst through the door of the study and promptly slams it shut behind him.

Startled by his brother's sudden and exceptionally loud (even for Nick) entrance, Jarrod jumps up from his chair. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he leans his hands on the desk and with an air of annoyance meets his brother's eyes. The harsh response to such an interruption is immediately cut short by the distraught glare looking back at him.

"SHE DIDN'T KNOW!" Nick screams as he storms up to the desk and tosses an envelope and a picture on it. "She didn't know he was married! She thought he was coming back and they were going to get married!" He starts pacing frantically in front of the desk. "It's the only reason it went as far as it did. She was so excited to share the news of her pregnancy with him. She was so excited to be pregnant. She talks about the start of a family for both of them!" He throws himself into the leather chair in front of the desk and runs his fingers through his hair. "How could he do this?" he whispers.

The words tumbling out of Nick's mouth make little sense to Jarrod as he looks down at the letter and picture Nick had tossed on the desk. Like Nick, he is instantly drawn to the picture of his father with what he assumes is Heath's mother, a girl at the time that could not be much older than Audra. Carefully placing the picture back on his desk, he picks up the envelope and sees the name _Thomas Barkley_ written across the front. Removing the letter enclosed within, he reluctantly opens it and begins to read. As his eyes cross over each line, Nick watches the blood drain from Jarrod's face.

"Where did you get these?" Jarrod soberly asks as he finishes reading. He places the letter back in its envelope and then sets it back on the desk with the picture.

"They fell out of his bible when I picked it up to put it on the nightstand and before you say it, I KNOW, I shouldn't have looked." Nick looks up at his older brother waiting to be reprimanded for his actions but instead watches as Jarrod walks over to where the family safe is located and begins to enter in the combination.

Removing from the safe the original letter Heath had given them, written by their father to Leah, Jarrod quickly compares the dates on both. The letter from his father was written a week and a half prior to the letter they now possess, meaning Leah had more than likely written her letter before she received his.

"She must have gotten his letter when she went to mail hers, telling her he was married and not coming back." Jarrod slides back into his desk chair and wonders how in the world the man he undeniably respected for his leadership and generosity would be capable of such deception. "My God, can you imagine? Unwed, pregnant and barely an adult. Thinking you've met the man of your dreams only to find out he is married with a family and will never return."

"HOW COULD HE DO THIS?" Nick is back on his feet, he leans over the desk toward Jarrod. "To us? To Mother? To Her? To him?" He points at the room above them.

"I don't know, Nick. Now, please, keep your voice down." Jarrod feels as though he has aged drastically in the last few minutes. He reaches down into the lower desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of single malt scotch that he reserves for particularly challenging legal cases and two glasses. Pouring them both a double shot, he hands a glass to Nick and then takes a large gulp of his own glass. "The only thing I can say is that Father was human. He made mistakes."

"MISTAKES. Is that what you want to call it. She was barely older than Audra, Jarrod. He promised her the world and she gave herself to him only to find out he was married after she was already pregnant with his child." Nick downs his drink in one gulp and signals to Jarrod he wants another.

"And she never said anything. Or asked for help in any way." Jarrod pours Nick another drink and then slides the bottle back into the lower desk drawer. "I guess that tells us a lot about the kind of woman she was and the kind of person Heath is as well." He looks up knowingly to Nick who concedes his point.

"Why didn't he show this to us when he first got here?" Nick sits back down in the chair opposite Jarrod and takes a sip of his drink. The toll of all they had learned today, unrelenting in its depth, grinds him into place. He reaches up and rubs his eyes and sighs.

"I guess for the same reason his mother never mailed it. He had the proof of who he was without showing us this and causing more pain."

"Should we tell Mother or Audra and Gene?" Nick asks as he finishes the rest of his drink and sets the glass down on Jarrod's desk.

"I think we should leave that up to Heath. The picture and letter belong to him and we shouldn't have even read it." Jarrod watches the guilt and indecision spreading across Nick's face. "Does this change how you feel about him?"

"Yes, no, some. I DUNNO! I'm so angry. Angry at Father for what he did and angry at him for coming here. And I know that is wrong, that it is not his fault." Nick shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "I don't want to know these things about our father. Can't you understand that?"

"I can. Believe me, I feel the same way, but Nick, he's all alone in the world. Not only has he lost his mother but he also just lost a woman he loved like a mother. Doesn't he have a right to be here with his family?"

"Yes, Jarrod. He does." Nick says without reservation. "Thanks, Pappy." He stands up and grabs the letter and the picture off of the desk then turns towards the door.

"What are you going to do?" Jarrod asks watching his brother walk away. He can see the wheels turning in Nick, a sign he is trying to come to terms with his own emotions.

"I'm going to put these back where I found them and sit with my new brother. See if I can't figure out how not to be angry with him for things that aren't his fault," Nick says matter-of-factly and then heads out the door.

To this response, all Jarrod can do is smile.


	15. Chapter 15

The rumble of thunder slowly penetrates Heath's waking brain as he lies perfectly still trying to fight off his body's need to awaken. He doesn't want to wake up or open his eyes. He doesn't want to face a world that keeps senselessly stripping away from him the few people he has held dear. His close-knit family that protected, loved, and cherished one another, that created a safe haven for a small boy isolated and shunned from the world around him, has disintegrated from a humble cast of four down to just a remaining two. Heath can't imagine existing without them, so instead of allowing the light of the morning sun to softly peak under his eyelids he holds his eyes tightly shut trying to ward off the ability of his body to come back into full consciousness. A feat he knows he will only be able to continue for so long.

Once again his life has been turned upside down by the same evil that seems to follow him no matter where he goes. It is his curse, the bastard's curse, a continuous presence in his life that is constantly trying to rip away his existence, his happiness, and now it is seeping out beyond just his own person and affecting those he loves. _Why did Aunt Rachel have to die?_ The thought carries with it the debilitating sorrow he felt last night, a feeling he is sure he is going to eventually allow to consume him. He is alone without those he can depend on unconditionally and a part of him wants nothing more than to just fade away and be free of all this pain. There is nothing to keep him grounded. Without his anchors, without the drive to provide for his family, he doesn't know how he will have the strength to continue on or how he will stand tall against every beating or lost jobs that come about because of his parentage.

If only he had been in Strawberry, maybe he could have saved his Aunt Rachel from the hands of Matt and Martha. Maybe he could have taken Rachel and Hannah far away from the decay of that dead town. They wouldn't leave when his mama was sick but maybe he could have convinced them. If only he had tried before he left to fulfill his mama's promise. He thinks about how afraid she must have been, alone and at their mercy, a feeling he knows all too well. He knows what it is to be within their clutches, to be helpless to defend yourself from the constant assault, to know death is coming. His throat catches and a paralyzing feeling of fear washes over him as he remembers the touch of the icy hand of death brushing the tips of his fingers along his spine. He begins to shiver from the cold memory, his breath deepens, and he shifts awkwardly in the bed reawakening the pain in his right side and chest. He lets out a small groan at that movement and again allows the tears of pain and sorrow to fall.

"Heath," Nick's voice is gentle as he moves his legs off the edge of the bed and softly sets them down on the floor. He is not sure what woke him but as he watches the young man on the bed fall back into the anguish from the night before he imagines it was the slight shaking of the bed that broke through his subconscious. He leans in closer to the bed. "It's going to be okay, Heath."

Heath freezes at the sound of Nick's voice and all of his efforts to sink back into the abyss are halted by his own curiosity. _Why would Nick, of all people, be sitting with him?_ His wariness of this brother being alone with him leaves him reluctant to open his eyes, so he remains frozen as he hears movement off to his right side. His eyes naturally follow the sound from underneath his closed eyelids as if by some extension of looking in a particular direction they will help him to hear the sounds in the room more clearly. His panic begins to rise as he feels a dip in the mattress beside his wound which causes him to inhale deeply in an effort to steady the pain. He can now feel Nick sitting right beside him and braces himself for what will come next.

"Sorry Heath," Nick is quick to respond as he sees the pain the movement of the bed caused.

Heath brings up his left hand to wipe away the evidence of his grief as he slowly opens his eyes. He attempts to push himself further up on the pillows wanting to be eye level with this, his hostile brother, only to again be caught off guard by Nick's quick action to reach out to help him. Once he is settled, Nick reaches over and grabs the pitcher and glass from the nightstand, pours a glass and hands it to Heath.

"Here, would you like some water?" Nick asks as Heath eyes the glass suspiciously unsure of why Nick is helping him. Seeing his discomfort, Nick takes a quick sip from the glass, then smiles and says, "See, its just water."

Heath can't help but allow his own crooked grin to grace his face as he takes the glass from Nick and quickly downs its contents. The water's revitalizing effect is instant and he leans his head back on the headboard and takes in a slow even breath. He turns and looks curiously at Nick trying to determine what he is doing in this room with him. He observes his brother shift uncomfortably under his gaze and watches as Nick gets up and heads across the room to look out of the window.

"Sun'll be all the way up soon," Nicks says keeping his back to Heath. "I can help you down the hall to take care of your needs before Silas brings up breakfast."

"I can do it." Heath pushes himself up further on the pillows and keeps his eyes squarely on Nick's back still wondering why this brother is here with him. He pulls back the sheet and blanket that has been covering him throughout the night and attempts to move his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm ok. Ya don't have to be here."

"Well, now that's not true." Nick turns to look at Heath and sees him sitting on the side of the bed looking directly at him. He quickly makes his way back across the room and places a hand on Heath's shoulder. He does not miss the resulting flinch. "Whoa now, Doc says your not supposed to be out of bed without help for the next week and Mother would kill me if I let you do it by yourself."

Heath looks up and directly into hazel eyes trying to find the meaning behind this apparent shift in behavior. _Does he care_? The question flashes through his mind and is quickly dismissed as nothing more than schoolboy folly.

"What do ya care?" Heath asks, eyeing his brother with one eyebrow raised. _"Nick hates me, he's made that perfectly clear."_ He thinks as he feels his own rage building. After all that has befallen him in the last couple of months, and now with Aunt Rachel's death and his aunt and uncle on the loose, his natural instincts of self-preservation are at a bare minimum. He angrily blurts out, "You're the reason I'm here anyway. What does it matter to ya?"

"Heath." Nick is caught by the venom in Heath's voice and the pleading in his own. He sits back down in the chair he had earlier vacated so that he is right in front of Heath who has shifted his view to the ceiling and is working to contain his own rage. He realizes this is the first time he has heard Heath lash out in anger, his calm visage cracked by this latest blow. "Listen,... I… uh… I'm… well, I'm sorry about what happened." Nick leans in closer to Heath. "I don't know how it happened exactly. I saw your gun pointed at Gene and he looked afraid."

"Cuz there was a rattler about to bite him," Heath quips, quick to interrupt. As he is still working to calm the flow of adrenaline he looks over to the toy horse and bible on the nightstand. He knows better than to lose control and allow his emotions to guide his actions.

"I know that now but I didn't know that then and...," Nick pauses, "Dammit Heath, I was just so angry at you that I just reacted."

"Why? Why are ya angry with me? What did I do?" Heath is boiling again. He always wished someone could answer this question for him. How is it his fault? How is any of this his fault? He looks over at Nick who can hear the longing underneath the anger in his voice and can see the desire in his eyes. "I know my coming here was a shock, but I've tried to stay outta your way. I make sure all the work gets done and try not to cause ya no trouble."

"BECAUSE YOU CAME HERE!" Nick blurts out before he realizes that the words he is releasing can never be taken back. He jumps up from the chair and points his finger at Heath's chest. He is so consumed by his verbal release he fails to notice the impact his words are having on the boy on the bed. "Every time I look at you that is all I see, his adultery, his betrayal. His memory is forever tarred in my brain and I can't ask him why because he's dead."

A swell of fury rapidly builds within Heath's chest and he slowly rises on unsteady legs to put him at eye level with his livid brother. To him, Nick's words echo a familiar refrain: you're an abomination, your mother should have killed you when you were born, your no good, a loser, a product of sin, unworthy to breathe the same air as decent folks. It is a refrain he is sick and tired of hearing but one that he now knows he can never escape. He finally understands, there is no place for him, not here, not in Strawberry, and not in any of the many places he has lived in his short life.

"I DIDN'T WANT TO COME HERE AND I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN." Heath fights to hold on to his fury and not allow Nick to see how forlorn he is. "Ya ain't the only one with questions and no one to answer them." He wraps his left arm around his waist and grabs on to the headboard to steady himself as a wave a dizziness almost sends him to his knees. "I'll be leaving as soon as I fulfill my mama's promise. Then you'll never have to see my face again, I'll make sure of it."

"Heath, that's not what I meant." Nick sighs and pushes the palms of his hands against his forehead and closes his eyes. Leave it to him to open his big mouth and make things worse instead of better. When he opens his eyes he sees Heath has turned away from him and is very slowly taking small steps toward the door. In only a couple of steps, he is standing in front of the determined-looking young man blocking his path. "I didn't mean it like that. I just need some time to work through it."

"Just let it be, Nick." Heath takes a small step toward him. He doesn't want to talk anymore. He doesn't want to feel anymore. "It's for the best."

"For now, Heath, but only for now," he says seeing the strain standing there is taking out on the boy. He falls in beside him shadowing his moves ready to help should he stumble as Heath again starts to move forward. He is more determined than ever to figure out how to be this boy's big brother.

* * *

The portrait of their late father, the great Thomas Barkley, hangs proudly over the imported marble fireplace that stands as the main focal point for their parlour, an undeniable statement of opulence and status that their father had commissioned right before his death. As Jarrod sits on the settee staring at the image before him, he wonders if that is why his father had the painting commissioned. His father, who taught them to work hard, to treat all people with respect and judge them based on their actions not their status in society, did he to some degree get caught up in his own wealth and power?

After his conversation with Nick concerning what really happened between Leah Thomson and Thomas Barkley, Jarrod spent the majority of the night trying to reconcile the man he knew with the man who would deceive a young woman into believing they were going to get married. His empathetic nature allows him to place himself in a similar situation and work through the emotions that might have contributed to the ending betrayal. He does realize that both parties have some fault in any relationship and that without the ability to talk to either of them all of his deliberations are simply an act of coming to terms with his own feelings about the event. A practice that does seems to stay his anger until he thinks about the young man lying in the room only two doors down from his own. How does Leah Thomson or Thomas Barkley justify their actions when it comes to their son?

Lost in his contemplations, he misses the swishing sound of his mother's dress as she makes her way into the room and takes a place beside him on the settee. To gain his attention she reaches over and places her hand on his.

"Good Morning, lovely lady," he greets her when he feels her hand touch his, breaking his concentration. "And how are you on this fine morning?"

"Good Morning, Jarrod." Victoria does not miss the dip in inflection as the words 'fine morning' leave Jarrod's lips. "You look tired Jarrod. I believe we all had a long night considering all we learned yesterday."

"Yes Mother, it was a lot to take in." Jarrod looks back up to the painting of his father, an action not missed by Victoria, who senses there is something else bothering her son. "I'm planning to send for the original court transcripts on the Simmons' trail. I feel the more information we have about them the better."

Victoria nods her head in agreement. She realizes at some point they are going to need to talk with Heath but she would like to put that off until he is a little stronger.

"And what about George? I assume you have already worked out a way to gain some answers without him getting suspicious." A look of surprise flashes across Jarrod's face. "Oh don't look at me like that," she laughs, "Afterall, I am your mother."

To that, all Jarrod can do is laugh, a nice levity to the harsh morning.

"Yes Mother, I have a few things to put in motion when I go into town this morning. I still can't imagine him being involved in anything outside of the law."

"I can't either." Victoria looks down at her hands, unaware she is absently starting to twist them together. "I wish I could go and talk with him, friend to friend. But if he is involved, in any way, then Heath's safety needs to come first."

"You're quite taken with him aren't you?" Jarrod asks looking thoughtfully at his Mother.

"Yes, Jarrod." She smiles up at him, content with her feelings. "Once I opened my heart to him I realized how much he needs us and I think we also need him. I'm happy he is here."

There is no denying the sincerity in her words. He smiles back and reaches over to grab her hand. "I am also happy he is here and hope to spend some time getting to know him."

A knock on the front door breaks their attention as they both look up to see Silas walking over to answer it. Wondering who it could be so early in the morning, both Jarrod and Victoria rise and watch as Silas pulls the door open. On the other side, they see Tim, a young man who works at the telegraph office, handing Silas a wire they assume came in this morning. Silas tips him before closing the door and turning to head into the parlour towards them.

"Morning, Mrs. Barkley, Mr. Jarrod. Sorry to interrupt but a telegram just arrived for you, Mr. Jarrod. The delivery boy said it was marked urgent."

"Good Morning to you Silas and no apology is needed." Jarrod walks over to meet Silas who hands him the telegram. "Thank you, Silas."

"Yes, sir. Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes," Silas announces as he slips back out into the hall.

Victoria watches as Jarrod opens the telegram and begins to read. She can tell from his expression that it is not good news.

"What is it, Jarrod?" Victoria asks as she goes to, stand by Jarrod.

"It's from John Creeves, George Tryone's clerk." Jarrod's voice is distant, full of thought.

"Is everything ok, Jarrod? Is it Buddy?" Victoria searches Jarrod's face for some type of clue as to what the note says.

"I'm sorry Mother. George is dead. He was found last night in his study and the police suspect he was poisoned."


	16. Chapter 16

"Poisoned?" Victoria slides back down into the settee from which she had just risen, the disbelief that her friend is dead is evident in her eyes. "Are they sure?"

Jarrod quickly walks over to sit by his mother and pulls her into an embrace. They had known the Tyrone family for almost thirty years, having met when both families had come west to make their mark on the world. Back then, George Tyrone had been a young ambitious lawyer who fought to tame the wild nature of the west. He was a man Jarrod greatly admired for his belief in the law and his willingness to help those who had the misfortune of finding themselves standing before him in the courtroom. It was his guidance and example that led Jarrod to follow his passion and study law.

"I'll reach out to my contacts in San Francisco and see what I can find out." Jarrod leans back to look his mother in the eyes, with his hands still on her shoulders. "I am so sorry Mother, I know that he was a good friend of yours."

"Oh, Jarrod. Buddy is going to be devastated. He never quite recovered from the death of his mother." She takes the handkerchief Jarrod is offering her and gently wipes her eyes. "We need to find out what arrangements have been made and if we can help in any way. "

"Of course. I'll see to it first thing." Jarrod again wraps his arms around his mother.

"See to what first thing?" Nick storms into the room, his disastrous meeting with Heath weighing heavily on his mind. He notices Jarrod's embrace of their mother and the fresh tears on her face and immediately heads toward them. "What happened?"

"Yes, what happened?" Gene repeats as he and Audra enter behind Nick. Audra quickly takes a seat beside Victoria and grasps her hand. Gene walks up and stands beside her.

Jarrod releases their mother and looks over at the state of his siblings. They all look tired and distracted as they each are still reeling from the events of the last few days and now he has the wretched task of telling them that a man they admired and loved, who has been a long time family friend and pseudo uncle, is dead, murdered by some unknown assailant wielding an invisible killer. Taking a deep breath, he looks to each of his siblings and begins, "George Tyrone was found dead last night. It appears he was poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Nick repeats as he slides down into the chair across from them. His memories of the Tyrone family intertwined with his own family throughout the years are flashing through his mind. "Do they know who did it?"

"The telegram didn't say." Jarrod leans over and hands Nick the wire, who after reading it passes it to Gene.

"I just can't believe it. Poor Buddy, he must feel so alone." Audra reaches up and grabs Gene's hand. Buddy is the same age as Gene and during their childhood the three of them were inseparable. When they became teenagers the three gradually drifted apart as their interests changed and though they remained friends, they began to see less and less of each other.

"We'll make sure to do whatever we can to help him." Victoria reaches over and wraps her arm around her daughter, comforting her.

"Jarrod," Gene hesitates, not sure if this is the appropriate time to ask, "do you think this has anything to do with Martha Simmons' release?"

They all glance up at Gene who nervously sits down on the armrest of the settee and places his arm around Audra's shoulders. The news yesterday that George was somehow involved in the release of that vile woman from Ophir has left them all doubtful of the man they knew. A doubt that now, upon learning about his death, adds a layer of guilt to their already heavy burden.

"I don't know but I think we have to consider that to be a real possibility," Jarrod replies having already suspected that the release and now his death is more than a mere coincidence. "Whoever ordered her release could be looking to tidy up any loose ends."

"Which means Heath could be in more danger than we realize." Nick leans forward and rubs his hands together. "We need to talk to Heath and find out if he has any idea who would want his aunt released and why."

The family all nod in agreement. As much as they would all like to hold off on asking Heath questions that they are sure are going to upset him, they know getting these answers may be the only way to keep him safe.

"Breakfast is ready to be served," Silas announces, causing the family, so lost in thought, to slightly jump at the sound of his voice.

"Thank you, Silas." Victoria rises from the settee with her children following her lead. "Silas, before you go has Heath had his breakfast?"

"I brought a tray up to him Mrs. Barkley, but I don't think the boy feels up to eating."

Victoria nods at Silas and looks over at the stairs, she knows the toll the loss of a loved one can have on a person and Heath has suffered two such blows in just a couple of months. "We'll wait and talk with him after breakfast."

They start to make their way toward the dining room when a loud pounding draws their attention to the front door.

"NOW WHO COULD THAT BE AT THIS HOUR!" Nick stomps over to open the door as the pounding grows louder and louder as if someone is taking the flat side of their fist and beating on the door.

Flinging open the door ready to pounce on whoever would dare disturb his family in such a manner so early in the morning, Nick is caught by the sight before him. Phil Archer, the district attorney for Stockton, a man who prides himself on how he presents himself to the world, is standing at the door's threshold in a wrinkled suit, his shirt half untucked, and his suit jacket unbuttoned with no vest. As Nick works his way up from the suit to look into the face of the man who wants nothing more than to bury him over the accident in the north pasture, he can't help but take a step back. He has never seen a presumably sane man look quite so crazed.

"I demand to see Heath Thomson," Archer yells as he steps into the foyer, his unshaven face complimenting his burning and very determined eyes. "No longer will I allow you to scoff in the face of justice."

The family who had followed Nick into the foyer are all gathered around unsure of how to react to the scene before them. In truth, they feel a tinge of pity for Archer who is clearly becoming unhinged over something, though they can't imagine what.

"Morning." Fred steps into the spotlight realizing his presence was overlooked by the family focusing on the spectacle that is Phil Archer. He tips his hat to the family, who notes the look of disdain on his face as he glares over at the D.A., before removing it when he enters the foyer. "Sorry to bother you folks so early."

"Good Morning, Fred, Phil." Jarrod reaches out his hand to each of them only to have it batted away by Phil. Shaking it off Jarrod continues, "We were just sitting down to breakfast. Would you care to join us?"

"Stop trying to stall us, Jarrod." Archer steps up into Jarrod's face and puffs his chest out in an animalistic attempt to show dominance. Jarrod honestly doesn't know how to respond to this display, but correctly assumes laughing may not be in their best interest. "You can't keep the boy from me and you know it. Now, where is he?

"Surely this can wait until later today or tomorrow." Victoria steps forward, hoping her request will be given some consideration, but knowing in her heart that will not be the case. "Heath just received some very bad news yesterday and I don't think he is up to this."

"No, it cannot wait!" Archer yells, "You Barkleys can not impede this investigation any longer!"

Fred places his hand on Phil's arm trying to calm the irate man. He has no idea what happened this morning to make Archer come banging on his door before sunrise demanding that he accompany him to interview the Thomson kid, but whatever it was there was nothing that could be said or done to stop him.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Barkley, but I am going to have to ask that you take us to the boy." Fred hopes they can tell how sorry he truly is, but that he has to follow the law.

"OH COME... "

"Certainly Fred," Jarrod quickly interrupts seeing the escalating emotions in not only Phil but his family as well. He turns to look at his siblings and then his mother, "Its the law. We can't stop him." He turns to Phil and Fred, "Please, follow me."

The family watches as Jarrod leads the two men up the stairs towards Heath's room. Nick, Gene, and Audra are outwardly boiling at the nerve of Phil Archer to burst into their home and demand to question their brother, who they know doesn't have the strength to deal with anything else right now. Victoria who has mastered the ability to hide her abhorrence of a situation, a tool that comes with maturity, gracefully turns and follows the men as they climb the stairs. She may not be able to stop him from questioning Heath but she would sure like to see them try to stop her from being in the room while it happens. Seeing their mother begin to follow the group towards Heath's room, the three siblings quickly do the same.

* * *

Upon entering the room the first thing Jarrod sees is the empty unmade bed and the uneaten tray of food on the dresser, a testament to the emotional pain from the loss of a loved one. As he moves further into the room his eyes settle on the two high back wing chairs that once faced inward but have recently been turned toward the windows to give their occupants an excellent view of the corrals. Moving quietly toward the two chairs, Jarrod sees a puff of blonde hair settled against the back. Moving around to the front of the chairs, he finds Heath sitting propped up against some pillows with a blanket covering his legs and his feet raised on a footrest. He is sure this is the work of Silas, who clearly loves this boy.

"Heath." Jarrod bends down and places his hand on Heath's knee and gives a little shake to get his attention. He can see the absent look in the eyes of the boy staring out the windows. "There are some men here to see you." Jarrod gestures for Fred and Phil to come over to where Heath can see them. He watches as Heath glances up at them. "This is Sheriff Fred Madden and Phil Archer. Phil is the district attorney here in Stockton. They would like to ask you a few questions about the shooting."

An uneasy feeling starts working its way through him as Heath looks over the two men he is being introduced to. His keen eyes immediately take in the uncouth look of the district attorney and he begins to wonders what is behind it. In all his dealings with such men, they were usually sticklers for their outward persona. He gives a questioning look to Jarrod who is now standing beside him and then slowly moves his feet off the footrest so that he can sit up further in the chair, an action that causes him to wince at the pull on his wound and sends Jarrod reaching down to carefully help him. Now sitting up straighter he looks back over the rim to see the rest of the family standing just outside of the door. A sight that makes him even more nervous about why these men are here. _What kind of questions was he going to be asked and what kind of answers did they expect from him_?

"Ok," he simply says.

"Heath," Archer takes the chair to the left of Heath and moves it front of him before sitting down and leaning forward. He smiles at Heath, trying to put him at ease, but his 5 o'clock shadow and his uncombed hair have the opposite effect on him. "If you could just tell us exactly what happened the day you were shot."

Heath nervously glances back to the rest of the family and then over to where Jarrod is standing. _They already know what happened so why have they called in the sheriff and district attorney._ He swallows hard, "There was a rattler getting ready to bite Gene and I shot it."

"And how'd you get shot." Archer leans in closer to Heath.

"I'm not sure, I was looking at the snake," Heath's voice catches slightly, his breath deepens, he can feel the tingling trails of anxiety inching their way through his chest. _Were they trying to blame him for something?_ "I didn't do nothing other than shoot the snake that was about to bite Gene," he stammers out. Realizing what must be going on he looks back toward the family, his eyes begging them not to do this. "You don't have to do this, I already told you I would leave and you'd never see me again. Ain't that enough?"

The echo of stunned voices does little to quell the rising tide of anxiety Heath is feeling. Only Fred catches the fresh tears falling down Audra's checks and the pleading eyes of Victoria who moves to take a step forward but is halted by a wave of his hand. Nick and Gene both look to Jarrod to intervene on behalf of the family and Fred doesn't miss the large vindictive smile spreading across Archer's face.

"Heath, we don't want you to go anywhere and you're not in any trouble." Jarrod again bends down and places his hand on Heath's shoulder, his voice weighted down with sincerity, "Mr. Archer is just trying to figure out what happened that day."

"Yes, Heath," Archer slithers his way into the conversation, "it seems you were acting the hero and all you got for it was a bullet in the side. Now tell me about when Nick shot you."

Heath looks from Jarrod to the family, and then back to this man in front of him. He wants nothing more than to believe Jarrod means what he says and, if he is honest, in his time here he has found Jarrod to be an honest man, but years of betrayal have taught him the normal rules don't apply to his kind. Regardless, he is not in a position to do anything about whatever they have planned so he decides to just stick with the truth. "I can't. I didn't see who shot me."

"What!?" Archer flies from his chair to a standing position startling everyone around him. He takes a short step forward while rubbing his hands down his shirt as if that will take out the wrinkles and then closes his eyes and inhales deeply before moving to sit back down in the chair he jumped up from. He smiles in a way that sends a chill through Heath, as he continues, "That's fine, it doesn't matter. We all know who shot you. I'll just need you to sign this statement and then the sheriff can take Nick into custody."

Now, Heath is thoroughly confused. "I ain't gonna press charges on Nick."

Archer leans in closer to Heath and painfully grabs Heath's leg, still smiling, "Don't you want justice? After the way they have treated you?" he says through gritted teeth.

"I ain't gonna press charges," Heath repeats as he pushes Archer's hand off of his leg.

Archer takes a minute to consider the boy before him. "Oh, I see, what did they promise you in return for your silence?"

"What?" Heath looks around the room still confused as to what is really going on here. He sees both Nick and Gene looking as though they are ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. "No one promised me anything."

"They must have promised you something. No sane person would allow a man to shoot them and get away with it." Archer's anger is rising as he stands up again and looks over to Fred, when an idea begins to form in his devious brain, "This is obstruction. You are withholding evidence in this investigation." He puts his hands on the arms of the chair and leans into Heath, who tries to back away. "I could have you arrested. Maybe a night in jail would help you to remember your civic duty."

"I ain't done nothing wrong." Heath locks eyes with Archer not wanting to let him see the terror the idea of being locked in a jail cell sends through him. He knows he wouldn't make it through the night if the DA followed through on his threats.

"Phil, you can't be serious." Jarrod intervenes having noticed the flash of fear in the blue eyes at the thought of going to jail. "If Heath doesn't want to press charges you can't make him."

"You Barkleys think you are above the law." He leans in closer to Heath's face, who turns away from him. "Well, you're not!" He stands up, smiling, and looks over to Fred who his shaking his head in disgust. "Fred arrest him, let's see if that helps him to change his mind."

Fred makes no motion to move and simply looks to Nick, who he knows if Victoria let go of his arm would attack Phil without hesitation. He then looks to Jarrod wondering if he knows of any legal way to stop him from having to arrest Heath. "Phil, you know this won't hold up in court. Don't you think the boy has been through enough?" Fred tries to reason.

"I SAID ARREST HIM!" Phil reaches down grabbing hold of Heath's right arm and yanks him out of the chair causing Heath to scream out in pain and fall to his knees. Within seconds everyone descends on the scene as Fred forcibly removes Phil's grasp on Heath's arm while Jarrod gently takes hold of him and Gene and Nick move the chairs out of the way so they can lower him to the floor.

"Heath," Gene calls out as he takes a pillow off of the chair and places it under Heath's head. Heath is laying partially on his left side with his knees drawn up toward his chest. His eyes are closed and his left arm is wrapped around his middle, his breaths are coming in deep gasps as he works to calm the reignited pain.

"Audra, go get the supplies the doctor left and bring them over here," Victoria orders as she leans down beside Heath, "Heath, we are going to roll you onto your back so I can check the wound.

"Gimme a...minute...please, ma'am," Heath whispers.

"Of course, dear." She gently rubs his arm. "Just tell us when you are ready."

Jarrod and Nick take this moment to approach Fred who is still holding on to a very agitated, mumbling Phil.

"I think it is time you leave, Phil and the next time you intend to harass any of my brothers you had better have an order signed by a judge." Jarrod steps up into Phil's face looking directly into his eyes as he delivers his message, but instead of anger at the loss of a chance to put a Barkley on trial all he sees looking back at him is fear.

Fred pushes Phil in the direction of the door and gives an apologetic look to the family. "I'll send the doctor out to check on him."

"Thanks, Fred."

* * *

Another day is finally coming to a close as Victoria looks out the window over their vast empire now doused in the brilliant hues of the setting sun. It has been a very long day and one that she does not want to repeat any time in the near future.

The rough treatment at the hands of Phil Archer did not leave Heath unscathed and the doctor arrived about an hour after the incident to restitch his wound and order him to remain in bed the rest of the day. The despondent patient said nothing during the doctor's visit and made no argument against the laudanum being offered. He simply took the teaspoon and fell into a restless sleep where he has remained the rest of the day. Jarrod went into town to send out his wires and Nick did manage to get some work done on the range while the rest of the family sat with Heath not wanting him to be alone when he finally awakens.

The sound of movement behind her pulls her out of her thoughts and brings her back to the present. She turns around to see Gene and Audra sitting on the bed on either side of Heath who is awake and drinking some water. She moves to stand beside Gene and instinctively reaches down to feel Heath's forehead for any sign of fever. She watches as Heath's eyes begin searching each of their faces.

"Ya'll don't have to keep being nice to me. I wouldn't have pressed charges against Nick. Nick ain't the kind of man who just shoots a person for no reason." He looks up towards the ceiling not wanting to see their relief.

"Heath!" They all three respond at the same time.

Realizing this conversation needs a mother's touch, Audra and Gene move away from the bed and let their mother take the lead. Victoria replaces Gene on the bed and gently takes hold of Heath's hand.

"Heath," she stops and takes a moment to think of where this is coming from, "You think that we were afraid you would press charges on Nick and that is the only reason we were being nice to you?" She glances up to see Jarrod and Nick standing in the doorway.

'Makes sense." He keeps his eyes turned away from them and does not notice Jarrod and Nick enter. "Happened before."

"Heath, the only reason we are being nice to you is because you are a part of this family and we want to get to know you." She reaches down with her other hand and gently moves his face to look at her. As his eyes shift in her direction he sees the whole family looking down at him. "We want you here Heath and we hope that you will give us a chance to show you."


	17. Chapter 17

The stench of stale ale and aged whiskey sweating out from the pores of drunken cowhands and local miners sends a small amount of bile rising up in the throat of Frank Sawyer as he shifts his sleeping butt cheeks around in his chair. _Probably why it is better to be amongst the drunks then stone sober in a corner._ He has been sitting in a dark corner of the saloon nursing a bottle of whiskey he bought for the last couple of hours as he waits for the signal that their target is digging an illegal hole they can leverage for information. Throwing another shot over his shoulder like he downed it, he leans his elbow on the table and runs his fingers through his greying hair. _I'm getting too old for this._

The wire they received yesterday from his contacts in San Francisco concerning Judge Tyrone's death sent up clear flares that whatever the judge had gotten himself into that apparently resulted in Martha Simmons' release, was much bigger than they had originally suspected. It seems whoever is pulling the strings must have deep connections to be able to gain access to a sitting judge in his own home. A realization that both he and Jim feel does not bode well for Heath, but one that also makes them wonder who with that kind of pull, would go to so much trouble to get revenge on a cowhand.

As he sits waiting, he goes back over the list of cases Heath worked as his deputy to see if any of them stand out as having ties to a larger conspiracy. Heath did have some impressive arrests, but nothing that he suspects has connections spanning across the state. When he thinks about it most of the arrests were centralized to the areas surrounding Spanish Camp, and the few that expanded out to neighboring towns still remained within a hundred mile radius.

He looks over to the card table where Alpha Barnes is losing badly and this time takes the shot of whiskey he just poured hoping to calm the elevating outrage as he thinks about the only other place where Heath might have come across someone with that much power who might want revenge, the war. _I wish I could've stopped you, Heath. You should never have been there._ Heath is the only one who can tell them who he might suspect from those years and that is a conversation they all know will need to be handled delicately. He leans forward noticing Jim shift his right hand to fall around the hilt of his weapon and Dave Barnes come up behind his son and whack him on the back of his head.

"What the hell are you doing here, boy?" Dave yells and grabs Alpha by the back of his shirt pulling him out of his chair. The other men at the table quickly grab their cash.

"Nothing, Pa." Alpha gives his father a perfectly innocent look. "Just enjoying a friendly game of poker."

On cue, Jim walks over to intervene between his brother and his nephew. "Dave, it's nothing I was watching the boy."

"Watching him! Don't you know who that is?" Dave points at the overly dressed gentlemen sitting opposite Alpha. "He's nothing but a cheat! He used to hang around Strawberry with those Simmons."

 _Finally the signal._ Frank downs one more shot and heads over to 'calm' an escalating situation as the room becomes tense and whispered accusations start to fill the crowded room. The rest of the men at the table stand up and look at the gentlemen in question wondering if they have been robbed.

"Well, I'll be." Jim steps up into the man's face. "I remember you, Robert Phelps." He pushes Phelps backward. "You almost killed my nephews."

The whole saloon is standing and closing in around the table. The bartender begins clearing away bottles preparing for the fight he was warned might come. Most of the town knows the livery owner, Dave Barnes and his family and will stand with them if need be.

"You're mistaken," Phelps stutters eyes wide, seeing the crowd closing in he takes a step back. "I'm...I'm…Michael, yes Michael Smith." He tries to stand a little taller as if that makes his lie sound more convincing and then pulls at the front of his suit jacket quickly buttoning his coat to cover his midriff.

"No, you're Phelps. I'd know you anywhere." Jim grabs the front of his shirt and Dave walks up to stand beside his brother. "I never forget a face."

Phelps raises his arms trying to break the hold Jim has on him knowing he needs to find a way to get out of the saloon as fast as possible. He looks around the room for the closest exit as he struggles against the death grip Jim has on him.

"Woah, gentlemen." Frank flashes his badge to the crowd and separates the three men. "Is there a problem here?"

"This man was slipping cards out of his jacket during the game," Alpha answers to the shock of all those who were playing with him. "I saw him do it on at least three hands."

"A cheat, huh." Frank acts the ever patient third party. "Is that true, Mr...?

"Smith, Michael Smith." Phelps throws his shoulders back, more secure in his lie. "No sir. just trying to play an honest game with these fine gentlemen." He gestures toward the other men who have moved in closer and are fully invested in the outcome of the conversation.

"Of course," Frank smiles warmly at Phelps. "Here let's solve this real quick and just turn out your pockets. It's the best way to convince everyone." Frank turns to the other players. "Don't you gentlemen, agree?" They nod in agreement with a couple of them placing their hands loosely on the hilt of their guns.

"My pockets?" Phelps gulps, beads of sweat can be seen building on his forehead. He takes out his handkerchief and pats it dry.

Frank just shakes his head.

"Well, you see…," Phelps begins to try and weasel out of opening his coat.

Frank smiles and grabs him by the arm while reaching over to unbutton the coat. His years of experience dealing with cheats guide his hand into Phelp's suit jacket and finds the hidden inner pocket and begins pulling out extra playing cards, cash, watches and even a few wallets.

"You were saying?" Frank laughs as he places handcuffs around Phelp's wrist. "Looks like you're coming with me. You men," he points to the other players, who have started moving in closer ready to show the cheat how they handle things in Modesto. "can stop by the sheriff's office tomorrow to formally press charges," he says sternly. Leaving no time for the others to argue, he tightens his grip on his prisoner's arm and drags him through the crowd and out the front door. Dave, Jim, and Alpha give the two a couple of minutes before falling in line and following behind them.

Throwing Phelps into the back of the wagon Dave road up in, Frank climbs in beside him wanting to make sure the slimy bastard doesn't make any attempt to escape. With Alpha's help, Jim heads over to round up the other horses and they both quickly catch up making sure to follow close behind. As they pass the jail, Frank can see the fear rising in their captive and he wonders how long before the spineless man wets his pants, a thought that brings a smirk to his grim demeanor.

"We passed the jail." Phelps' desperation can be heard in each syllable.

"We're not going to the jail, Mr. Phelps. We're," Frank points to himself and then to Jim, "...not lawmen tonight." He removes his badge and places it in his vest pocket.

"Where… where are you taking me then?" His voice cracks as his eyes dart between the men. This town is known for turning a blind eye to vigilante justice. He looks up at Jim and Dave. "Look I'm sorry about the boys, it was just supposed to be that bastard kid nobody would miss." He doesn't see the right hook until it connects with his jaw.

"Heath is more of a man than you will ever be." Frank grabs his shirt and pulls him closer. "Now it's simple Mr. Phelps, we want to know everything you can tell us about Martha Simmons' release. We know you went to see her six months ago."

The wagon stops in front of the livery and Alpha jumps down to open the doors so his dad can drive in. Once inside the men work to secure Phelps to a chair placed near the center of the room. Laid out on a side table are various instruments that could be used to cause a great deal of pain to any human they are used upon.

"Ain't illegal to visit an old friend, besides I heard her release was all above board."

Jim walks up and smiles. It is clear to all in the room, especially Phelps, how much he is going to enjoy this. He balls his hand into a fist and happily throws a couple of punches that land right under the scoundrel's eye.

"Alright, alright…" Phelps' pleads with them, terrified. "I don't know nothing about how she got released. " Jim rolls up his sleeves even further. 'HONEST, every time I saw her all she did was talk about that Thomson kid and how she was gonna get revenge. Last time was no different except toward the end of the visit she just started smiling and said that you can learn a lot in a place like Ophir."

Dave grabs hold of Phelps shirt and pulls him towards him.

"I swear to you that is all I know!" Phelps screams, begins to cry, then wets himself. Dave punches him anyway.

'I've been waiting a long time to do that," Dave says as he walks past Frank who is handing Jim one gold piece.

"Three punches?' Franks questions, shaking his head. "How'd you know?" he asks Jim who just smiles and laughs. Still shaking his head Frank states what they all are thinking, "Well, I guess we need to head to Ophir and see what Martha stumbled on."

* * *

Nick's hands hold tight to the thin silver handles of the serving tray he is carrying as he stands for a moment outside the slightly open bedroom door of his new brother. Being an early riser, as a rancher must be, Nick had found himself standing in the kitchen early this morning enjoying a cup of coffee while watching Silas work on preparing breakfast. Just as he was about to take his leave, Silas turned around holding on to this very tray and with a twinkle in his eye that Nick did not miss, asked him to take Heath his breakfast. Then, before his mind could catch up to his mouth, Nick had agreed, a decision that he is beginning to regret as he looks at the door before him.

Even though watching Archer attack Heath sent his protective nature into overdrive, he realizes that after their last interaction, they are still on rocky ground. Nick knows he is still dealing with his misplaced anger toward the boy and with their mother working so hard to convince Heath to trust them, the last thing he wants to do is let something else unintentionally slip out. A habit he is known for, as he has perfected it throughout his twenty-six years on this earth. So, oddly enough, Nick Barkley, a man of action, finds himself hesitating to enter the room before him.

As he stares at the door, the twinkle he saw in Silas' eye as he handed him the tray flashes through his mind. Silas has been with the family since Nick was a small boy and he knows him to be an intelligent man with an insightful nature that seems to always know what is happening within the home and has subtle ways of steering events in the right direction. He also knows Silas is very fond of Heath and would not do anything to hurt him. _So, why did Silas hand him the tray? Why not bring it up himself or get Gene to do it since Gene and Heath are developing a friendship? What is Silas' end goal in having him do this?_

Nick looks down at the covered plate, the pot of coffee, and the glass of orange juice on the tray and knows he can not hold off much longer before the coffee and food will be cold. Trusting in Silas to be able to see something he can not, Nick takes the tip of his boot and lightly pushes the door in opening himself up to a view of the room. Just as it was yesterday when they entered with Fred and Archer, the slept in bed is empty and the two high back chairs are turned out toward the window. Knowing that Heath is likely sitting propped up in a chair Nicks starts to make his way across the room glad he has yet to put his spurs on his boots. As he makes his way he sees the puff of blonde hair toward the top and then Heath's hands holding up the toy horse that Jim had brought him.

Making his way around the chairs to stand toward the front he watches as Heath looks past the toy to the windows but makes no move to acknowledge Nick standing there. Heath's normally overtly expressive eyes appear to be almost catatonic as he stares out of the window. Turning to the window, Nick follows Heath's gaze as he looks out to the corral below and to the sight of the ornery stallion, a stallion he knows Heath is very fond of, running around the pin. Looking back to the boy, Nick takes a moment to consider all he has learned about him in the last few days before he then heads over to set the tray down on the top of the dresser. Opening the top drawer he begins pulling out the articles of clothing he recognizes as Gene's hand-me-downs, before heading back over to where Heath is sitting.

"Alright, let's get you dressed," Nick says as he plops down in the chair beside Heath and watches as the blue eyes turn toward him and away from the window. "I mean, it's fine with me if you want to go down in your nightshirt, but I just thought you might want some clothes on before we head down to the barn."

At this Heath lowers the toy to his lap and turns his head toward Nick, "But..."

"But what? I think the feel of the sun on your skin will do you some good and I happen to know a certain mare has been missing how you dote on her." Nick watches as the blank eyes fill with desire.

"I don't want to offend Mrs. Barkley." Heath looks back down to the horse and then out the window.

Nick takes a moment to consider the young man before him. _That's probably the only reason he hasn't already made an escape attempt._ He thinks.

"Hmmm, yes, Mother might be upset…," Nick pauses for dramatic effect and then places his hand on his chin as if contemplating all of his options, "I bet if you'll eat your breakfast she won't mind at all."

Heath is not in the least bit fooled by the antics of Nick but he does desperately want to see and talk with Gal. She always helps him to work through his feelings and right now he has so much to work through that he is struggling not to let it consume him. In just two months he has lost two women who were pillars in his world, his aunt and uncle are free and probably going to try to get revenge on him, and then last night Mrs. Barkley said they want him here. _How can that be true?_ He wonders before answering Nick. "Alright"

"ALRIGHT!" Nicks says as a big smile spreads across his face. _So far so good._ He thinks as he stands up. "uh...food or clothes first?"

"Food, I guess." Heath starts to move his feet off the footrest Silas had helped him with earlier and moves to sit up further in the chair, an action all the more difficult after his interaction with Archer yesterday. He stiffens as Nick is quick to help him and does his best to relax at Nick's touch. "It's gonna be hard enough to eat it without it being cold." He completes his thought not sure of why he said it out loud, he doesn't want Nick to think he is not grateful. He looks up and notices the understanding look Nick is giving him and begins to feel more at ease.

Nick pulls one of the nightstands over to act as a table for Heath and then reaches up to take the breakfast tray off of the dresser and set it up beside him. He thinks maybe he will sit back down in the chair and let Heath eat but then thinks that opens up more opportunity for his mouth to get the best of him and decides instead to just let Heath eat in peace.

"I...uh...I'm going to let you eat without me staring and come back in about fifteen minutes to help you get dressed," Nick says and waits until Heath looks up at him and nods before going back to staring at the plate of food in front of him as if he has no idea what to do with it. He instinctively pats Heath on the shoulder as he gets up and then heads to the door. A small smile spreads across his face as he realizes this is the first time Heath has not flinched when he touched him. Glancing back, he watches as Heath takes a bite of eggs and slowly places it in his mouth and then begins awkwardly chewing. Smiling, he turns and heads out the door in search of his other siblings.


	18. Chapter 18

A slight breeze brushes across his face as his shaky fingers work to unbutton the silky nightshirt Gene had given him to wear. He is pretty sure he has never worn a garment of any kind that is as fancy as this one and while he does have to admit that the smooth cool material feels good against his skin, he personally would have opted for a more traditional style without the lace collar and ruffled cuffs.

"Beggars can't be choosers," he laughs, "Isn't that what Aunt…" His fingers freeze as the words threaten to deplete his small reserve and the tears once again well up in his eyes. He lays his chin against his chest and takes in a deep breath thinking only of Hannah and Gal, the two dependable beings he has left. Looking up he reaches over and picks up the small toy horse from the nightstand beside his half-eaten breakfast plate and holds it tightly to his chest. _They're always with me._

Going back to the task at hand, he again starts working on the buttons until he gets to a point where he knows he can easily slip his head through the opening. Reaching over to the seat Nick vacated only ten minutes ago, leaving the clean clothes behind, Heath picks up the shirt and sets it on his lap before he starts to carefully slide his left arm out of the sleeve. He can't stop the quiet moan that passes through his lips as the movement presses on his right side and pulls at his ribs causing him immense pain. Even so, he doesn't stop until his arm is free as he knows Nick will soon return and he wants to make sure his back is covered before that happens.

His body bears the refrain of his life, with each scar depicting a repeated story whose dialogue has never crossed his lips. He has pushed these tales to the far corners of his mind and while he can never forget the men who left their mark upon him he can control who he shares his history with. So in an effort to avoid the unwanted looks or questions that come as others bear witness to his shame, he continues doing his best to at least change his shirt before Nick's return. Breathing heavy, he takes his left hand and starts to lift the side of the nightshirt over his head and down his right arm unaware of the two pairs of hazel eyes watching him.

The sight before them causes each of them to pause as the harsh reality of their brother's childhood flashes through their minds causing a rising tide of anger to flow through them. Nick goes to take a step forward only to be caught on the arm by Gene's hand who quickly motions for him to stop and be silent as to not startle Heath. Nick, who feels compelled to rush in and help the boy, gives him a questioning look but is halted by the loving determination he sees in his eyes. With a nod from Gene, they slowly begin to enter the room and watch as Heath lifts his hand to wipe away the building sweat off his forehead from the effort of moving.

"Heath," Gene says quietly still moving toward the chair, "here let us help you."

At the sound of Gene's voice, Heath instinctively stiffens. Knowing it is too late to hide his back, he keeps his eyes focused ahead and starts to slip the first sleeve of the new shirt over his right arm. "I can do it, been dressing myself for a while."

Again, Nick goes to respond only to be silenced by Gene as they make their way in front of Heath. They both watch as Heath struggles to get the shirt far enough over his back so that he can slip his left arm into the other sleeve. Sensing that the horrid scars that cover his back are the motivation behind his attempts, Gene grabs Nick's arm only to look over and see that Nick is waiting to follow his lead.

"Heath," Gene says as he kneels down in front of him, "It's what big brothers do, they help little brothers." He doesn't miss the tug of a smile the words cause on Heath's lips. "Especially when they're hurt."

Heath looks up at both Nick and Gene and does his best to reign in his rising discomfort, but he is starting to feel as if he is losing his rights to his own body. So, instead of heeding Gene's words, he goes back to trying to slip the shirt on. "It's alright. I got it," he says through a somewhat strained voice.

"OH COME ON!" Unable to remain silent Nick throws his hands into the air, exacerbated. "We can see it is hurting you. Now let us help you."

At Nick's loud voice Heath tightens the wall around his heart and just continues working to get the shirt on ignoring both of his brothers until he feels Gene's hand on his knee. Glancing up to meet Gene's understanding eyes, he is caught by the concern he sees within them.

"Heath," Gene starts, thinking he might know what is bothering his new brother, "you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Heath's eyes flare in surprise and his breath catches at that statement.

"We saw them when we first brought you in after you were shot and Jim told us a little about your uncle."

Heath's hands begin to sweat and an intense feeling of flight overwhelms him. _How could he tell them anything? It wasn't his story to tell_. He starts to rise from the chair plotting his escape only to be thwarted by Gene's next words.

"You don't have to hide from us, Heath. We..." he points to himself and then to Nick, "...are your brothers. Now, will you let us help you? We won't ask you any questions but I want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it I'm here."

At that, he quickly shakes his head. _No, he would never talk about it._ He stares at Nick and Gene who seem to be waiting on his response, only to have Nick break the silence between them.

"We just want to help you so you can get downstairs and spend some time with Gal, ok?" Nick does his best to keep his own emotions in check. _At least I had the good sense to bring Gene back into the room with me._

Thinking of seeing Gal, Heath nods and allows Gene to come around behind him to help him slide his other arm into the shirt. Gene's observant eye doesn't miss Heath's rigid stature as they help him get all the way dressed, but he can't help but feel that even though they have a long way to go in building a relationship, today a small battle toward trust has been won.

* * *

Carefully running the soft brush over Gal's coat, Audra works diligently to make sure she will absolutely shine when Heath sees her for the first time. She has watched the friendship between the two and hasn't missed the fact that at the sound of any noise, Gal continually glances at the stable door to see if Heath is coming her way. She also has not missed the fact that when it is not Heath coming to visit her, Gal will drop her head in disappointment.

"You're watching for him, aren't you?" She giggles as she continues brushing Gal's sides. "Well, I have good news for you. In just a few minutes he will be walking through that door." Gal turns her head and gently nudges Audra's arm, indicating she wants a treat. Reaching into her pocket, Audra pulls out a couple of cubes of sugar and allows Gal to gently take them from her hand. "Now, this is supposed to be our little secret."

"Tell me you haven't been feeding her a lot of sugar. I'm not sure how Heath is going to feel about that." Jarrod leans against the beams of Gal's stall holding blankets in his arm. Behind him, Duke walks over carrying a bale of hay that he places on the other side of Gal from Audra.

"Not too much," Audra defends herself. Her brothers always tease her about spoiling their horses. "She's just looked so sad since Heath hasn't been out to see her."

At that Jarrod and Duke can't help but laugh, ever since she was a child Audra has been known for her compassionate heart and her ability to have animals trust her. Audra is always bringing home strays, whether they are cats, dogs, raccoons, and even once an opossum. Still smiling he walks over and sets the blankets down on the bale of hay then carefully spreads them out in layers to create a little padding on top. Looking up, Duke hands him a canteen filled with water that he sets on the corner of the bale.

"Thanks, Duke," Jarrod reaches over and pats Duke on the shoulder, "Listen, we want to give Heath some privacy but with the way the men have been treating him do you think maybe you could keep an eye on him until we finish breakfast?"

I'd be happy to, Jarrod." Duke looks over at Audra and then back to Jarrod. He knows Tom would be happy with the way his children are starting to accept Heath. "It's a real nice thing you are doing for the boy. That horse means the world to him."

"It might surprise you to know it was all Nick's idea." Jarrod nods his head at the jaw open look of disbelief on Duke's face.

"Really?" He simply can't believe it.

"Yes," Audra chimes in, "he came banging on all of our doors this morning. I about bit his head off until he told me what he wanted to to do." She smiles as she thinks back to the sight of Nick standing in her doorway first thing this morning nervously rocking from foot to foot as he asked her to help him get Gal ready for Heath. _It's interesting to see this new side of Nick that Heath seems to have suddenly awakened._

"Hmph, well I'll be." Duke shakes his head. He knew Nick had it in him, he just wasn't sure how long it was going to take to come out. "I'll stick around and make sure no one bothers him." With a quick nod to Jarrod and to Audra, Duke takes his leave.

Finished grooming Gal, Audra carefully puts away the brushes in a bucket that she leaves beside the bale of hay knowing that Heath might like to spoil her a little more. Nick's visit this morning did surprise her but it also filled her with a large measure of hope. Something had broken through Nick's anger and whether it was hearing about Heath's childhood, or those nasty people who might come after him, or even the shooting itself, she is just grateful that the family as a whole finally seem to be united in accepting Heath. Still smiling she walks out and joins Jarrod as they wait for all their brothers to join them.

It isn't long before they see a very slow moving Heath getting the extra support he needs from the iron grip he has on Gene and Nick, as they make the long journey out to the barn. Obviously winded from the exertion, all three look relieved when they finally make their way over to Gal's stall.

Guiding them over to the padded bale of hay he has set up for Heath to sit on, Jarrod tries to assist Nick and Gene as they help Heath to sit down and then gently lean back against the wall of the stall. Once he is situated, Nick and Gen stand back up as they all work to catch their breath. Taking one look at the extremely pale Heath, who seems to be struggling to even out his breathing, Jarrod begins to have second thoughts about this little scheme of theirs, until he sees Heath open one eye and lift his hand toward Gal who immediately nuzzles underneath it bringing a crooked smile to Heath's face.

"Gal," he whispers, his breath starting to return to normal. She walks over closer to him and starts to nuzzle his hair. Glancing up at her with both eyes, he sluggishly leans forward to rest his forehead on her chest and begins petting her side. "I've missed you, girl," he says affectionately.

The siblings watch as Heath seems to get lost in his own world with Gal. The brothers start to back out to give the two their privacy, while Audra bends down and places her hand on Heath's arm gently rubbing it to get his attention.

"Heath," she smiles at him when he looks at her, his head still resting on Gal, "we are going to give you two some privacy but Duke is around if you need him and we will be back out in a little bit."

He smiles and nods his response and then looks past her to where Nick is standing, catching his eye. "Thank you, Nick" Is all he says but those three simple words and the look of pure joy Nick can see in Heath's all-telling orbs send a wave of contentment through him.

"You did good, Nick," Jarrod whispers to his little brother bringing a smile to Nick's face, he puts his arm around his shoulders as they all walk away.

* * *

The axle of the wagon strains under the weight of the cargo it is carrying and the dips in the muddy road it is being forced to travel over. It's passengers hold on to the sides of their seats and seem to sway perfectly with each dip to the right or to the left, seemingly unfazed by the rocking. It has been a long journey and one without any true comforts as the group has been forced to stay out of the small towns that were scattered between where they have come from and where they are heading. Being wanted does that to a man, it keeps him on the outskirts of living, but that was something this man planned to rectify very soon.

The man glances back into the covered wagon at the three other men traveling with him. These are not the men he would have chosen to make this journey with him but then he doesn't really have much of a choice since there are greater forces at play and who is he to argue with a little extra help. Turning back to look toward the road his eyes shift to the woman sitting next to him. He hasn't seen her in eight years and still, she had thought of him when all of this went down. Without her, he would still be rotting in prison. He knows the love they once shared was lost long before they were unjustly separated, yet still, she thought of him.

"Martha, darling." He leans over closer to her. 'We're almost there, hon."

"Stockton?" She turns toward him a wide crazy smile on her face.

"Yes, darling." He makes sure to talk as gently as he can. That place had changed her, she scares him more now than she ever did before. "You want to tell me where we are supposed to go?"

"Gladly." She starts to giggle and it slowly turns into a wild uncontrollable laughter that sends the hairs on his arms rising to attention. He almost feels sorry for that bastard nephew of his, almost.


	19. Chapter 19

The three men remain sitting on their rented mounts as they stare up at the three-story Victorian building with its looming four-story towers directly in front of them. The high sun of the noon hour illuminates the backs of the towers casting shadows all around them and giving the place an ominous feel. The building houses those less fortunate individuals who are afflicted with diseases of the mind and is clearly a daunting uninviting structure set miles out from the bustling city life of Sacramento. After the rather quick confession from the weasel Phelps the plan to go directly to Ophir was set in motion and first thing this morning Frank, Jim and Alpha were on a train heading north. The three wasted no time upon their arrival to procure horses and head straight to the state insane asylum were Martha Simmons had been held for the last eight years. They all realize that time is not on their side when it comes to figuring out why she was released and what she plans to do with her newfound legitimate freedom.

"I sent a wire from Modesto letting the superintendent know we would be stopping by today." Frank turns to look at the other two men sitting with him. They both have a determined look on their faces. "So he is expecting us, but I'm not sure he is going to let you in Alpha, so you might have to wait outside."

"Yeah, I figured as much." Jim shifts in his saddle and looks over to Alpha. "Maybe it's best that Alpha and I just wait out here."

Frank takes a moment to look over at his two companions. It has been a long couple of days and he knows they are all worried and exhausted. "Yeah, I think that might be best," he says as he throws his leg over his horse and quickly dismounts. "I'll be as quick as I can." He nods to them as he heads toward the front door.

The reception area is lined with lamps that are dimly lit giving the otherwise dark room a small amount of light since there is very little natural light coming in from the small window on the front door. As Frank steps inside, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust before he notices that off to his left is a young lady sitting behind a large desk buried in a mound of folders. In front of him is a barred door that opens to a long hallway that is lined with doors on either side. Walking over to the young lady, Frank removes his hat and gives a little cough into his hand to get her attention.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He waits for her to look up from her stack of papers and acknowledge him. "I'm Frank Sawyer, here to see Dr. George Shurtleff. I wired ahead."

"Oh," She stares at him for a moment before what he said registers. "OH, I'm sorry, yes, Dr. George. He is expecting you." She gives him a once over and seems to stop on his marshall badge. "Just one second and I will get him for you."

She scurries around the desk and then through the barred door, leaving Frank standing alone in the middle of the room. Left alone and waiting, he walks over to the desk and opens a couple folders surprised that the young lady would leave patient records just lying around for anyone to see. As he works his way through the folders, that she had been diligently working on, he realizes that they are all filled with blank paper except for one that has circles drawn all over it. His curiosity sparked, he reaches down and picks up the paper until he hears the sound of footsteps heading his way. Moving quickly, he replaces the page on the desk and walks back over to the door to look out of the front window.

"Ah, Mr. Sawyer., you made it."

Frank turns around and standing directly behind him is a thin man who stands about six feet tall and has snow white thick hair and a salty beard to match. "Dr. Shurtleff?" he asks tentatively.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Sawyer." The two quickly shake hands and then he motions for Frank to follow him through the barred door and down the hall. Frank glances back toward the young lady who has resumed her place behind the desk, before falling in line behind Dr. Shurtleff.

"Please call me Frank." Dr. Shurtleff looks back and nods. "I had some questions about the release of Martha Simmons. I was hoping you could help me answer them."

They continue down the long hallway. The small open windows on either end do nothing to staunch the dry unrelenting heat of the canicular season.

"Yes, I got your wire. I am not sure what I can tell you, the order came from a judge so we had no choice but to release her, even if it was odd." Reaching the end, Frank can see that it opens up to another hallway and follows the doctor when he turns right.

"Odd, how?" Frank asks when the doctor stops abruptly and turns toward a door on the left.

Grabbing his keys out of his pocket, the doctor opens the locked door and motions for Frank to enter. Frank complies and steps inside a finely decorated office, with a mahogany desk and matching bookshelves, two leather high back chairs and windows that line the back wall. Dr. Shurtleff shuts the door behind him as he enters.

"Odd in that I would not have recommended she be released. After eight years here she still wasn't able to leave the basement." He motions toward one of the high back chairs and Frank takes a seat.

"The basement?" Frank works to keep his tone even and not allow the repulsed feeling pulsing through him at the idea of keeping patients locked in a basement show.

"Yes, see we run a very tight shift here and there are rules that must be obeyed."

Frank shifts uncomfortably in his chair, he has definitely read the horror stories about asylums throughout the various states.

"Everyone here has a job. You saw how clean the hallways were, that is the patients. Sally, the girl who greeted you, she is a patient here." He pauses as he watches Frank's eyes shift toward the door. "We let them pick what they would like to do and we have a strict schedule. When we eat, when we go out into the garden, when we do our chores. As long as you can abide by those rules then your life here should be good, or as good as it can be, I guess."

"And those that can't... have to live in the basement?" Frank questions with a tinge of anger in his voice.

"Unfortunately, yes." Dr. Shurtleff lets out a heavy sigh. "There are those who cannot be trusted with the other patients and with overcrowding as bad as it is." The doctor runs his hand over his face and Frank can see the tension in his jaw. "Well, it's the only place they can be kept where everyone will be safe. Including them," he quickly adds.

"And Martha was one of these patients?" Franks leans forward making sure he is getting the correct read on the man before him.

"Yes, she tried to escape multiple times and never stopped plotting to kill a boy named Heath. It consumed her. That is why I was shocked when I read the order for her release."

Frank nods, "It surprised us too. Was there anyone she got close to, another patient or staff?"

"Not Staff!" The doctor is quick to squash that thought immediately. The last thing he wants is any rumors about how the staff treats the patients here. "But there was one other girl she was seen talking to quite a bit for the last year or so." He stops and opens a drawer in his desk. After a minute of rummaging through the pile of folders, he finally pulls one out and hands it to Frank. "Her name is Sissy Allen, poor thing. Young, pretty, but her mind just snapped. She tells everyone she is Molly Dowlin. She has been here for about three and a half years. They tried to escape a few times together and we had to separate them."

Frank takes the file and starts to go through the papers stored within. He skims the doctors' notes and sees nothing that stands out as being significant enough to give Martha leverage. Just as he is about to close the folder and say his goodbye, his eye catches sight of the original order for her incarceration, an order signed by a Judge George Tyrone.

* * *

"So Mother, you see I have no choice but to go to the court and ask them to make sure Phil does not show up here again," Jarrod pauses and looks out the window he has been standing next to for the last twenty minutes babbling about anything and everything. _Where are they?_ He turns back to his mother who has been sitting on the grey settee across from where he stood watching him attentively. She has a snide smile on her face leaving no room for doubt, they had been found out. He walks over and sits beside her.

"How long were you supposed to keep me occupied?"

"Twenty minutes. How did you know?"

"I went to check on Heath this morning. He was gone but his bible and toy horse were still on the nightstand. Then at breakfast, you all were oddly quiet on the subject of Heath." She smiles at him and pats his hand, then stands to take her to leave.

"Mother, before you go, you should know..." he pauses for effect, a useful tool when he is trying to sway a close-minded jury just as he is about to throw out his last card, "...it was Nick's idea."

Shocked, she turns back around, the disbelief evident in her eyes. She stares at her oldest son and contemplates her options. _If Nick did this, then he is starting to finally come around where Heath is concerned and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize that._ With a loud sigh, she gracefully sits back down. "I see, nicely done, counselor. I see the time spent in law school has served you well."

"Yes, Mother."

"I will wait for ten more minutes, but then I am heading out to meet them and don't think for a second you are all too old for my wooden spoon!"

"Yes, Mother." He leans down and kisses her cheek before flashing her a smile and quickly heading out the front door wondering what is taking his siblings so long.

* * *

The three sibling are leaning up against Gal's stall looking down in amazement at the sight before them. Gal is lying down, looking perfectly content, with Heath curled up on her side sound asleep. The sight looks so natural that the three can't help but wonder how many times the two have found themselves in this very position.

"What should we do?" Gene asks as he looks over to Nick who looks just as undecided as he is, "I mean we need to get him back upstairs before Mother finds out but they both look so peaceful I hate to wake him."

"I know, but we gotta," he says but makes no effort to move. They both look over at Audra.

"Really? Oh, you," she huffs and points at Nick and then turns and glares at Gene, "both of you! Why me?"

"Well, dear little sister, if you were peacefully sound asleep for the first time in a while whose face would you want to wake up too?" Nick takes a step back from his sister, knowing all too well not to be the target of his sister wrath.

"Audra, please." Gene tries to give her a pleading look but she scoffs at his attempts and looks back down at the sleeping Heath.

"Fine." She caves and opens the door of the stall. Gal looks up at her but otherwise remains perfectly still all the while watching Audra as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a cube of sugar.

"You feedin' my horse sugar?" A quiet groggy voice asks as Heath gradually opens his eyes to stare at Audra.

"Oh, don't be mad Heath. She's just looked so sad since you have been gone. I had to do something." She looks around Gal's head over to her new brother hoping she didn't upset him, only to be met with his signature smile which she quickly returns with a smile of her own.

"Good your awake!" Nick interrupts the moment and comes to stand in the doorway. "We gotta get you back upstairs."

Heath nods and begins to push off Gal only to be caught by the ache in the reawakened muscles he hasn't used in days. Trying not to show weakness to these new siblings he is yet to decide whether or not he can trust, he holds in a groan as he struggles to his feet. Not fooled by his antics Nick and Gene quickly enter the stall and grab on to both of his arms for support.

"What are trying to do, boy?" Nick is quick to call him out seeing the sweat building around his hairline. Heath's eyes shoot up to Nick who sees the rage inside them and he just smiles, "Let us help you, Heath." With that simple statement, Nick watches as the rage turns to confusion.

"Yeah Heath, same way we got down here, ok?" Gene gently pats Heath on the back and they start taking a few steps forward.

* * *

"Will you look at that? Guess you were wrong Barrett, Nick was telling us to lay off the boy, he's helping that bastard." Snyder laughs as he looks over at the confused enraged face of his friend. They had been sitting on the side of the barn and watched as the siblings made their way over to the bastard's horse's stall. "Looks like our fun is officially up. Ain't no way Nick will let us beat on the boy now. You saw him being all nice like to him."

"And it looks like he'll be staying," Colb chimes in throwing his cigarette down on the ground and grinding it out.

"That bastard is not gonna get away with this!" Barrett growls as he turns to face his friends, the demented look in his eye sending chills down both of them. "I ain't gonna let that no good scum stay here. I'll make them see, you just wait."

"Got a problem?" A man they have never seen before steps out of the shadows and slowly approaches them. He is dressed as a regular cowhand but carries himself more like the hired guns they remember when the railroad had been in town.

"What's it to you?" Barrett barks at the man.

"Nothing, just know a thing or two about getting rid of bastards." The man smiles a toothy grin, that highlights a scar that goes down his cheek.

"Who are you? You don't work here?" Snyder steps up.

"Just came in on a wagon this morning with some friends of mine." He steps in front of them and glances over to where Nick and Gene are slowly helping Heath make his way across the yard. He sees Jarrod come running out to help them. "I heard in town the Barkleys were hiring, so here I am. Got hired on just a little bit ago."

"And you know how to run the bastard off?"

The man nods not looking back at the men standing behind him. "I can make sure he won't ever come back." He turns back to face them a deadly look in his eye.

Barrett's smile stretches across his face, he reaches out a hand to the stranger. "Welcome to the Barkley Ranch," he laughs.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I have moved Ophir (which I believe is based on the Stockton State Insane Asylum) to Sacramento for the purpose of this story. I did take some creative liberties on the conditions inside where Martha was held but tried to keep the rest of the asylum true to what I have read.


	20. Chapter 20

The dimly lit brick-lined corridor assaults Frank's senses as a suffocating damp air intensifies the foulness of his demoralizing surroundings. He had asked Dr. Shurtleff to take him to meet with Sissy Allen to see if she held the key to Martha's mysterious release but as he stays close behind the doctor while they carefully navigate the narrow path between crammed in cots that fill the doorless rooms and pour out into the hallway, he wishes he had asked for her to be brought to them. The incurable, or maybe just incorrigible, patients follow them with the vacant stare of despondency. Dressed in nothing more than shapeless rags they start to rise and whisper at the unlikely visitor only to be quickly quieted into submission by the multiple attendants, a stark difference to his experience on the above levels.

As they continue further down into the depths of the hospital basement the cramped conditions only increase until the hallway finally dead ends into a large barred door, similar to what you would see in a jailhouse. The door separates the corridor into two distinct areas, one side for the hopeless and the other for the truly insane. Taking out his key, Dr. Shurtleff unlocks the door and motions for Frank to follow him deeper inside. Their path is now free of the cluttered cots in the previous section and the rooms on either side are equipped with heavy iron doors that are solid except for the small barred window at about face level.

"This area is reserved for those who continually try to escape or who have harmed one of the other patients or an attendant," Dr. Shurtleff comments as they continue down, "Martha and Sissy had adjoining cells in this area until they tried to escape and we moved them apart."

"So this is where Martha stayed the whole time she was here?" _As if she wasn't crazy enough, this place would drive anyone mad._ He shudders.

"Everyone starts out up top... Well, except for Miss Allen." He stops and turns toward the door on his right and then motions for one of the attendants to come and stand behind him. "Now that I think about it she has always been down here. I'm not sure why. Dr. Tilden was the superintendent when she was brought in. He was a shady fellow pulled a gun on some of the attendants he fired." He knocks on the door. "Miss Allen, you have a guest. Now back away as I open the door."

Without waiting for any type of response, Dr. Shurtleff turns the key already inside the lock and pulls the door open. Taking a step inside, his back hugs the wall as the room is barely big enough for the single cot it holds. Frank follows suit and steps in beside the doctor then looks down at the young patient he sees before him. Sitting with her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, and her forehead resting on top she makes no move to acknowledge the two men who have entered her space. Dressed in the same drab sack as the others her long brown hair flows gently down her back, a discernible difference from the matted locks of most of the patients they passed on their way here.

"Sissy." Dr. Shurtleff tries to get her attention. "Sissy, you have a visitor. Sissy."

She makes no movements which annoys Dr. Shurtleff who lets out a loud exaggerated breath and reaches down to shake the girl. Thinking quickly and hoping to gain the girl's trust, Frank gently grabs the doctor's arm and motions for him to wait before he touches her.

"Do you mind if I try?" Frank politely asks, he has dealt with enough lawyers, judges, and doctors to know how to overstep them without them catching on.

"Be my guest." Dr. Shurtleff waves a hand and smirks in defiance of the idea that some marshall would know more about how to handle this girl.

Taking a moment to think back over the notes he read in her file, Frank slowly takes a seat beside the girl who is stoically remaining curled in a ball on her cot. "Molly?" he asks speaking softly. Immediately her head flies up and he is struck by the desperation he sees in her eyes.

"You called me by my name, do you know me?" she chokes out, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks much younger than the twenty years old that the file claims her to be. Staring at the Marshall badge upon his chest, she quickly adds "Did my family send you to get me and bring me home?"

"Now Miss Allen," the doctor cuts in, "we have been over this. Your name is Sissy Allen and the sooner you accept that the better your stay here will be."

Within seconds she is standing on her feet fist clenched. "THAT IS NOT MY NAME! IT'S MOLLY. MOLLY DOWLIN!" she cries her whole body shaking. The doctor leans further into the wall and motions for the attendant standing outside of the door to come closer.

"I believe you, Molly," Frank intervenes, not wanting to lose any ground he has gained with the girl, his eyes dart up to the doctor hoping he will follow his lead. He wants to gain her trust so that he can get the answers he needs but he is also finding that a small part of his subconscious is telling him something here is very wrong. The doctor shakes his head and rolls his eyes but then gestures for the attendant to stop.

"You do?" She slowly sits back down. "Will you take me home?" Her voice is filled with hope and her eyes beg him to help her.

"I want to help Molly but I'm going to need some information." She quickly nods her head in agreement and a big smile spreading across her face. " Do you remember Martha Simmons?"

"Why?" Her tone hardens and her smile fades. "She said she believed me, too, but she was just using me. ARE YOU USING ME TOO!" she yells, her knuckles turning white as she grasps the side of the cot.

"No Molly, I'm not using you." Frank tries to keep his tone even and his voice as soothing. "I want to help you, but I need to know what you told Martha that she believed." He watches as the girl begins rocking back and forth while shaking her head. His own instincts seem to be warring over what to make of this girl.

"About my name." The girl looks up at him and stops moving. "She believed me about my family and where I am from... and how I got here."

"Will you tell me what you told her?"

"Well, I told her my name, MOLLY DOWLIN," she yells staring directly at Dr. Shurtleff, "and about my parents, James and Helen. Oh, and about my little brother and sister, they're twins. They were nine when I left... Don't know how long I've been here…" Frank watches as her train of thought seems to be wavering, she pauses then picks up where she left off. "... Oh.. and about my father being a bookkeeper for Jones & Hewlett, in Stockton. I told her that too." She smiles up at him.

"Stockton?" He questions. He tucks that information away as more than a mere coincidence.

"Yes, that is where I am from. I was born there. Have you been there? Do you know my parents?" She leans into him like an eager schoolgirl, again reminding him of someone much younger. He nods in answer to her question. "Oh and I told her about what I saw and that…" she abruptly stops talking.

"Yes, and that, what Molly? What did you see?" He encourages, hoping that this is more than a dead end.

"No!" She shakes her head and stares at him. Her eyes are darting back and forth as if she can't decide what to do next. "No, I won't tell you. No one ever helps me. They just use me! Martha used me and... you are just like her!" She is clearly getting agitated. She pulls her knees back up to her chest and lays her forehead on them. "If no one helps me, how will I get home?" She cries.

"How about if I promise to help you?" Frank cajoles, he can sense he is very close to something even if he is not sure what. "Then will you tell me?"

"Find my family and tell them where I am." She lays down on the cot and closes her eyes, signaling the conversation is over. "Then I will tell you."

* * *

"I'm sorry." Heath's voice sounds tired. "I'm not trying to win."

"I'm not sure that makes me feel any better," Gene jokes and then laughs as Heath gives him a questioning look. He reaches over and picks up the jacks off the floor between them. "I guess Jacks just isn't my game."

"We don't have to stop playing... maybe you'll win the next one." Heath tries to stifle a yawn as he looks over at his brother. His brother, the words still seem so foreign to him.

"You're tired and you should rest." Gene quickly reaches over and messes up Heath's hair before he can swat the hand away, causing them both to laugh. Gene is once again caught by how much Heath's laugh sounds like their father but quickly shakes it off as he reaches over and places his hand on his little brother's shoulder. "You've done a lot today."

"All I did was walk down to the barn. With help!" he laments, "A body can only take so much lying around."

"Heath, you were shot four days ago. It's going to take some time to get back on your feet."

"Don't have to like it," he grumbles, causing Gene to just shake his head and smile. Heath looks up at his brother and sheepishly asks, "Do you think your mother will let me go to see Gal again tomorrow?"

"Not if she sees how tired you are. Come on." He reaches down and pulls Heath's left arm over his shoulder and gently wraps his other arm around the slim waist. "Let's get you back in bed."

Helping him to stand, Gene is bothered by how much Heath is leaning on him as they take the few steps to the top of the bed. "What makes you think she knows?" he asks as he helps Heath to ease onto the bed and then reaches down to help him lift his legs up.

"I was raised with three mothers," his voice catches for a moment at the pain the memory causes, "they always know."

"Yeah, she does seem to always know what happens around here." He pulls the sheet and the blanket over Heath's legs. "I'll talk with the others and see what we can do?" He winks at his little brother getting the smile he was hoping for.

"Thanks, Gene," Heath says as he lays back on the mound of pillows and closes his eyes. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he is exhausted.

"What about Marbles?" Gene throws the question out there on a whim. "Ever play marbles."

Not opening his eyes, Heath shakes his head and smiles as he falls into a deep sleep unaware of Gene taking up a seat beside him.

"You are really good with him." Victoria walks into the room and heads over to the bed to check on Heath, placing her hand on his forehead she smiles at the coolness she feels. She had come up earlier to see how he was doing and was caught by the laughter and bantering she heard coming from the room. Not wanting to disturb the two brothers as they continued to strengthen their relationship she quietly slipped further down the hall to her own room, returning just in time to catch the last part of their conversation. "I think he is beginning to trust you."

"Thanks, Mother." Gene reaches over and grabs her hand. "I hope so."

"And," she gives him a stern look as she continues, "as much as I don't think he needed to be traipsing across the yard," She smiles as Gene mouth quickly opens to form his rebuttal only to be silenced with the tip of her finger, "I do think he needed time with Gal. He seems more at peace."

"So, you did know?" She nods at him as he lets that sink in. "Do you think...?

"We'll see," Is all she says as she gracefully turns and with a swish of her skirt heads back toward the door, leaving Gene staring at her in wonder.

* * *

The sweltering heat of the mid-afternoon only intensifies his building fury at the audacity of Phil Archer to summons him to Judge Clarkson's office on the pretense that the Barkleys are interfering with a criminal investigation and he is petitioning the court to have Heath removed from their care. _And if Heath refuses, is he going to throw him in jail? What the hell is going on with you Phil?_ He steps up his pace when he sees Fred waiting outside.

"Good Afternoon, Fred." He greets him and then takes a deep breath to begin calming himself down before heading inside. "Are you able to tell me what is going on here?"

"Wish I knew, Jarrod. Phil is acting crazier than he was at your house yesterday." He turns his head to look over to the judge's office door. "All I know is I was called to the judge's chambers same as you. How's Heath?"

"Better today. Archer ripped out some of his stitches with that little stunt he pulled yesterday." Jarrod motions to the door not wanting to put this off any longer. "Shall we?"

The two men step inside and are immediately greeted by the judge's secretary, Lucille Norton, an older woman who has worked for the judge going on five years. Since that time she has had many interactions with Jarrod and Fred, yet she refuses to call them by anything other than their given names.

"Yes, Mr. Barkley, Sheriff Madden. Right this way please, they are waiting for you." She guides them down a short hall and to a door on the end. Opening the door, she motions for them to enter and then turns to the judge ignoring the confused looks on Jarrod and Fred's faces. "Is there anything else you need Judge?"

'No, Mrs. Norton. That will be all, thank you." Judge Clarkson dismisses her. "Gentleman, please have a seat."

Jarrod and Fred obey the judge and find a seat in the leather chairs that have been placed in front of his desk but their eyes never leave the office's other occupants. Archer is sitting in a chair by the window and other than his bloodshot eyes that are staring absently toward the judge he appears to be back to his regular uptight self. The confusing part is that beside him is sitting Dr. Merar, who is taking his pulse and encouraging him to take small sips through chapped lips from a glass of water in his hands.

"Your Honor, about this petition…" Jarrod decides to go ahead and move forward regardless of the doctor's presence. He had just received a package containing the transcripts from Martha Simmons' original trial and a letter from John Creeves concerning Judge Tyrone's last cases when Fred knocked on his office door letting him know that the judge had requested both of them in his office. With Heath's safety on the forefront of his mind, he wants nothing more than to be able to get back to his office to review both of those key pieces of evidence. _Maybe Dr. Merar will be able to help me convince the judge that moving Heath would be harmful to him._

"Nevermind about that Jarrod. I actually called you here for something else." He reaches over and hands Jarrod a document from off of his desk. "Normally this would be handled with just the associate prosecutor and the sheriff but Mr. Archer here specifically requested your presence."

Jarrod quickly reads through the document and then looks up at Phil, stunned. "You're resigning, Phil. I don't understand, why?"

"I love the law, Jarrod," He says in a weakened voice that raises even more questions for Jarrod. "It's why I became a lawyer," he continues, his eyes remaining fixed on some spot in front of him, "To uphold the sacred code that allows us all to live in civility." He rubs his hands together and Jarrod notices his eyes starting to water. "I allowed my office, my position to be compromised. I'm not just resigning, I'm here to confess."


	21. Chapter 21

"Confess?" Jarrod leans back in the leather chair and runs his fingers through his hair. It isn't often that he is stunned into silence by the action of a man. "I don't understand, Phil. What could you possibly have to confess? Other than the rather excessive force you used on Heath yesterday you are the most law-abiding person I have ever known."

He gives Phil a smile hoping to ease the tension in the room and takes a moment to really look at his former law school colleague as this shocking turn of events begins to quell his initial anger at being summoned here. It doesn't take long for him to recognize the drawn features and the dark circles under the eyes of the man sitting in a chair propped up against the wall behind him with the doctor beside him. It's obvious to those in the room that Archer's perfectly pressed suit and expertly combed hair is simply his final attempt to present himself respectably to his peers.

"Phil, what did you do?" Jarrod's voice remains calm and even.

Archer's eyes shift from the window across from him to Jarrod and then quickly move down to his feet as the common surge of jealousy at the sight of a Barkley pulses through him. _The perfect Barkleys never make mistakes or at least they never have to pay for the mistakes they do make._ He shifts uncomfortably under his own insecurities and works to calm the rising tide of self-pity he feels. _No, this is my fault, no one forced me into this situation. I made the decision and now it's time for me to take responsibility for it_. He moves to respond but is instead afflicted with a bout of coughing to which Dr. Merar responds by raising the glass to his lips and encouraging him to take another sip of water.

"Sorry, Jarrod," he begins as the coughing begins to subside, "I haven't eaten, or slept, or had anything to drink in almost three days."

"Why, Phil?" The genuine concern Jarrod feels is clear to everyone in the room.

"Fear, Jarrod." Phil sits up a little straighter and works to keep his voice even, strong. "Simply, fear. It has been the driving force for many of my actions in the last few weeks."

"Look, Phil..." Fred leans in placing one elbow on his knee. "...if you think someone is out to get you, why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because then I would have had to tell you everything and I knew once I did that," he pauses and takes a deep breath, "I'd lose everything I have worked so hard for." He leans down and places his elbows on his knees, knowing he can't put this off any longer. Grasping his hands together he gathers his resolve and starts to tell his tale, "Almost four years ago I was approached by a judge who asked me to sign off on an order, the order was blank but he needed, well wanted, a prosecutor's signature."

He glances over at Judge Clarkson, who nods his head at the recognition of Phil's words. "So, this judge wanted it to appear that a prosecutor had recommended a particular sentence or placement so that it didn't seem like the judge was acting alone."

Archer nods in response. "At first, I refused. I was insulted that he would dare ask me to partake in something so unprincipled. When I ask him why he just said the less that I knew the better and then he apologized for asking. He went on to explain that he was trying to help a friend in a delicate situation. After, he invited me to dinner where we talked about my legal ambitions."

"I was such a FOOL," Archer yells, startling everyone. He balls his hand into a fist and slams it down on his own leg. "I was so easily played. I allowed myself to fall for his sophistry." He brings the same fist up to his lips as he works to ease his breathing. "I convinced myself it was ok because the request was coming from a judge who was known for upholding the law. So I signed it. The next week I learned how fruitful our conversation had been, Eli Browning was moved to Modesto and I found myself as the new prosecutor in Stockton."

"Alright, Phil. Let's take a break for a minute." Dr. Merar interrupts, trying to calm his patient. Judge Clarkson had called him to his office after Phil had practically collapsed. When he began to exam the man, the doctor found him to be dehydrated and extremely exhausted. Phil kept muttering about poison and it wasn't until both the doctor and the judge drank from a glass of water that he willingly took a sip.

Jarrod leans back in his chair and looks upon the man he has faced many times in the courtroom with a renewed curiosity. Phil Archer has always come across as a man unmovable in his staunch conviction of the law. A person who would never allow his morals to be swayed by personal gain as a lesser man might. A man whom Jarrod would never have imagined capable of the actions he is now describing to them.

Running his hand over his face, Jarrod takes a moment to look around the room at the others here to witness Phil's confession. It is clear from the looks of utter disbelief on the faces of the three other men sitting in the room that they share his views They all know the gravity of the situation. Not only is Phil guaranteed to be disbarred but it is likely he will serve time once convicted, not to mention face a potential civil suit if the blank order he signed wronged a person.

"It's been four years, Phil. Why tell us all of this now?" Jarrod looks over to Phil trying to keep his thoughts hidden as to not stop the man now that he has begun.

"I'm a lawyer Jarrod," he laughs at the careful tone Jarrod is using with him, "I know you are all thinking over the legal ramifications of what I am telling you and I can honestly tell you, as much as it shames me to admit, that without a recent turn of events I would have taken this secret to the grave. In fact, over the years I forgot about it, as horrible as that sounds." He rubs his palms over his knee. "Until two weeks ago."

"I received this telegram." Phil reaches into his pocket and hands the telegram directly to Jarrod, who immediately opens it and reads it. "I arranged for the snake to be let loose that day."

"How?" Jarrod jumps up from his chair and begins pacing around the room as his fear for this new brother courses through him, _Use Thomson_ the telegraph had read. He hands the telegram to Fred who reads it and passes to the Judge. "He could have been killed," He yells at Archer, doing nothing to hide the anger in his voice.

"Now, I never intended for Nick to shoot him. I was just hoping you might throw him off the ranch, and please don't be too hard on Billy."

"Billy? He was in on this?" Jarrod can feel his anger rising and walks over to the window across from Phil. He turns his back to them as he works to control his rage before looking back to confront them.

"Please Jarrod, I used him. He was just trying to save his own brother from hanging." Phil looks up at Jarrod and for the first time, the animosity he normally feels at his privilege is absent. He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out another telegram and hands it over to Jarrod. "Somebody is out to get that boy Heath, Jarrod."

Jarrod takes a moment to read the second telegram. His face pales as he reads over the words, _Get Thomson alone._ He sinks back into his chair, his anxiety rising, he starts to look toward the door. As soon as they were done here he needed to get home and have a talk with Heath. "Is this what led to that scene yesterday?"

"Yes, Jarrod." Phil keeps his eyes on Jarrod wanting to look him in the eye to make sure he can see the impact his actions yesterday had on him. Allowing Jarrod to see the confusion, the loss of self, the anguish he feels over what he did and how he acted, he continues, "I've never hurt someone like that and when I saw that boy on the floor, in pain, I realized how perverted my position has become. I had to put an end to it."

"How did these telegrams lead to you confessing?" Fred asks, interrupting Phil's admission to Jarrod in order to satisfy his need for clarity, "They're not signed and they don't mention anything about the order you say you signed."

Phil slowly moves his eyes from Jarrod to Fred and hauls in another deep breath and his readies himself for his final confession. "No, you're right they don't mention the order but I had a visitor show up at my house three weeks ago, letting me know he expected my help with this or else word would get out about what I did." He runs his hands over his face as he tries to calm his pounding heart. He knows that as soon as he gives them the name of the judge he will be signing his own death certificate. "I want all of you to know how ashamed I am of the actions that led me here. I let my ambitions and my jealousy cloud my judgment and for that, I am truly sorry." His eyes plead with Jarrod, who despite his anger nods in acceptance.

"The judge was the visitor?" Jarrod probes.

"Yes." Archer can feel the sweat forming on his forehead.

"You are going to have to tell us his name." Judge Clarkson places his elbow on his desk and leans forward.

Archer nods to the judge and again straightens his shoulders before clearing his throat, "It was Judge T…"

The sound of breaking glass did not register to anyone in the room until the crimson flood began to pour out of Archer's chest. The words lost in the gurgle of the red liquid as it rises to fill his mouth and flow over the edges of his lips. Confusion glazes Archer's eyes as the other men in the room jump into action. Dr. Merar, with Jarrod's help, quickly lays Archer down and rips open the man's shirt working to stem the stream of blood flowing from the wound. Fred crawls to the now broken window trying to locate the owner of the deadly bullet, while the judge bends down and begins to crawl toward the three men on the floor.

* * *

Grabbing a lantern off the shelf closest to the cellar door, Matt adjusts the wick just enough so it gives off a dim light as he carefully makes his way down the steep staircase. He hates this house but it will serve its purpose as they complete what should have been done twenty years ago. Finally, he will be able to right the wrong that has been cast upon his name and rid the world of that cursed child who unjustly was allowed to grow into a man.

Coming to the last step, he holds the lantern out and slightly above his head as he waves it slowly in front of him trying to see in the darkened corners of the small room. As his eyes continue to adjust it takes a moment for him to spot the person he is looking for. Curled tightly in a small ball in the far corner is his wife. She is staring absently towards him. He notices that dangling beside her are the newly installed shackles that will hold their prisoner in place.

"Martha, darling," he calls to her, hoping not to startle her. He watches as her head turns toward his voice though her eyes continue to look past him at something he can not see.

"When will our guest be arriving"? She sits up and moves her knees towards the wall as she gingerly starts to finger the anchored chains. "I have everything ready for him."

"Should be soon, dear." He dares to move closer to her. "Jed is working on the ranch and found some men who know the boy is an abomination."

Her eyes shoot up toward him as her smile widens and her joy overtakes her eyes. For a second he is reminded of when they first met and his heart yearns for those carefree days when they were happy and in love. The days before Strawberry, the days before that bastard was born.


	22. Chapter 22

The gentle sway of the saddle as each hoof gracefully steps one in front of the other is enough to keep the dazed rider lost in his continuous loop of memory: Phil Archer, the confession, the telegrams, the shot, the blood, repeat. As he allows his faithful companion to guide him home, he vaguely remembers the desperate attempt of the doctor to stem the flow of blood as he and Mac, the new deputy, carried his once colleague to the surgery. Taking a deep breath he grips the reigns a little tighter as he perfectly remembers the pleading look in the slitted eyes, begging him not to let him die. As the grasp on his hand weakened, he perfectly remembers the hollow holes the orbs became as Phil's last breath was taken.

Keeping his eyes focused dead ahead he tries to reconcile his feeling on the death he had witnessed. Phil was not his friend but he was a man that in many ways Jarrod admired. Sure, he wore his jealousy of the Barkleys branded on his lapel for all to see but he always stood firm in his belief in the law. At least that is what Jarrod had always thought, that he was a man who would never waiver.

"And yet your dying breath is to confess that I was wrong. You did waiver." Jarrod whispers to himself and sadly smiles at the irony. "Why Phil?"

"You say something, Jarrod?" Fred rides up close to his side. He had also been lost in his own reflections of the events this afternoon. There were no witnesses though, from the angle of the shot, he was able to determine it probably came from the roof across the street. While it was a good shot the person who took it was not a sharpshooter, at least not in his opinion. Most hired sharpshooters make sure their targets die instantly, not hours later surrounded by lawmen.

"No, Fred, just thinking out loud." He drags in a ragged breath and glances back at their other companions.

It was not an hour after Phil's death when he had settled back into his office and poured himself a double shot of single malt that a knock on the door interrupted his attempt to get lost for a few minutes. He quickly downed the numbing liquid and opened the door to find Jim Barnes and two other men standing on the other side.

" _What trouble did you bring us Heath that has left good men dead?"_ He shakes off the fleeting thought and quells the hints of anger at his new brother as he turns back to look at the road before him.

It had been quickly decided amongst the men that they could no longer hold off on discussing recent events with Heath to see if he could shed light on who might be doing this before anyone else is hurt. Jim and his allies refused to divulge any of their findings until Heath was present and within minutes the group departed only stopping at Fred's office to make sure he was included before heading on to the Barkley ranch.

As the big white house comes into view Jarrod nudges Jingo into a trot as a sudden urge to see his family washes over him. Barely allowing Jingo to come to a stop he leaps down from the saddle and forgetting his posse, hands his reigns over to Ciego as he heads straight for the front door. A sense of security seeps under his skin as he walks over the threshold, hangs up his hat, and takes in the scent of familiarity his home provides. He closes his eyes and feels a release in the tension he has been hoarding since the horrible event earlier in the day.

"JARROD," Victoria gulps at the site of her blood covered son. Rushing out of the parlour and over to him, she begins to spread his jacket apart to check for wounds. "Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Mother. It's not my blood." He gently grasps her arms to reassure her and as he sees her lips begin to move into the next question he tacitly cuts her off. "And, please before you ask, I would really like to only tell the story once when everyone is together."

Before she is able to respond to her son's request, she watches as a group of men enter through the still open front door behind them. She immediately recognizes Fred and Jim but is at loss as to who the other men may be, though from the Marshall badge on the vest of the gentlemen that looks to be about Jim's age she assumes that this might be Frank Sawyer. Jarrod hears the sound of the others entering and with another reassuring squeeze of his mother's arms he turns back around and quickly begins the formal introductions.

"Mother, you remember Jim Barnes and of course you know Fred."

"Yes, of course. Good Afternoon, Fred." Fred simply nods his greeting as she turns to Jim. "And Jim, it's good to see you again."

"It's nice to see you as well." He removes his hat and gently takes her hand. "How's Heath, ma'am?"

"Well he convinced his siblings to sneak him out to the barn," she pauses as she takes in the laughs of Jim and the two men with him.

"I'm surprised it took him this long to sneak out to Gal," Frank laughs, which leads to his introduction next.

"And this is Marshall Frank Sawyer and this young man," Jarrod motions for Alpha to come closer, "is Jim's nephew Alpha Barnes. Gentlemen, this is my mother Victoria Barkley."

"It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Barkley," Frank says with a small bow of his head as he gently takes the extended hand in his. Alpha nervously repeats the gesture as he takes in the large foyer.

"It's nice to meet you both. Please, gentlemen, let us take this conversation into the parlour. Jarrod why don't you go and change while I see to our guests." She smiles at the men as Jarrod departs and then guides them from the foyer into the parlour where Silas is waiting to offer them drinks as they take their seats. After a coffee service is decided upon, Silas takes his leave as Victoria continues to size up the men before her. Sensing their uneasiness at being left to wait for Jarrod, she takes the opportunity to question them, "Shall I assume that your presence here has something to do with the release of the Simmons and the death of Judge Tyrone."

The men shift under her gaze and she doesn't miss Fred's glance in the direction of the stairs and her eldest son.

* * *

The atmosphere in the room is one of apprehension as the gathered individuals silently wait for the last remaining participants to arrive. It was decided shortly after Jarrod returned with a clean shirt and sent for Gene and Nick to come in from the range, that this meeting of sorts should take place down in the parlour even though Victoria worried it would be too much on the still recovering young man after his galavanting this morning, but the group was just too large to fit comfortably in Heath's room.

Jim, Frank, and Alpha are calmly sitting across from Victoria and Audra while Nick and Fred are standing stoically by the fireplace. The reserved silence that has descended over the room is only disturbed by the occasional shift in position as one or more of the occupants glance toward the entrance of the room in hopes that Jarrod and Gene will soon be entering with Heath. Victoria can tell from the progressively more intense tapping of Nick's fingers that his patience is running thin. Just when she sees him start to move away from the support of the fireplace mantle, they are all gifted with the very slow moving trio entering the room.

Victoria is surprised by the stifled laugh she hears coming from Jim, Frank, and Alpha as they watch Heath, who is dressed in his regular clothes, slowly slide his socked feet across the floor. Concentrating hard on the task at hand, Heath's eyes are glued downward as he moves towards the settee, trying not to rely on Jarrod and Gene who are on either side if he should need them.

"Sorry for the delay but someone," Jarrod nods his head toward Heath, "refused to come down without 'proper attire' on," he states matter of factly, which leads to Heath's old friends laughing out loud.

"I swear that boy could be on his deathbed and would still be arguing with you about his pants!" Frank laughs, jumping up from his seat.

"Frank!" Heath smiles as his head shoots up. He is unable to stop the joy he feels at the sight of his old boss from showing, a detail the family does not miss. Glancing over Frank's shoulder he sees Jim and Alpha standing behind him. "Alpha! What are you doing here?"

"Heath, boy!" Frank walks over and quickly takes Jarrod's place beside Heath helping him to his seat. Cupping the back of Heath's neck with his hand, he kneels down in front of him, smiling. "You look like crap!"

"Been a rough few months, Frank." Heath shifts, unable to continue looking Frank in the eye as the raw pain of grief forms in his throat. He glances up toward the ceiling and takes in a deep painful breath.

"I'm so sorry, boy." Frank tightens his hand on the back of Heath's neck lending him strength as the grief passes through him. "I would have come, Heath. You should have wired me."

Heath nods but says nothing as he looks back toward the man who he owes his life too. Frank pulls him into a quick hug and then slowly releases him helping him to lean back on the settee before he gets up and retakes his own seat.

"Hey Heath, it's good to see you. I'm here to keep Uncle Jim outta trouble." Alpha smiles as he walks over and takes Heath's extended hand. "Ma and Pa say that it's well past time for you make it back over to Modesto."

"Thanks, Alpha. It's good to see you, too." Heath leans back and takes a minute to catch his breath while he looks around the room at the gathered group watching him intently. Frank and Alpha take their previous seats next to Jim and across from him, Mrs. Barkley and Audra. Nick, Gene, and Fred, the Stockton sheriff, are leaning on the mantle. Jarrod is still standing in front of the entrance but once everyone is settled moves to take a seat in a chair beside Heath. Heath can tell from the looks on the lawmens' faces they are not here to deliver good news. "I take it y'all are here to talk about the Simmons?"

"Heath," Jarrod begins, he leans back in his chair, "yes, that is part of what we need to discuss but there have also been a few developments that I need to bring to everyone's attention." Jarrod takes in a deep breath to calm his rising anger over the senseless loss of life he witnessed today. "Phil Archer was murdered today."

"WHAT?" Nick yells asking the question that is on the tips of everyone's tongue. Stepping toward Jarrod away from the fireplace, he feels Fred's hand on his shoulder, stopping his momentum. Looking back, Fred nods his head in confirmation.

"Jarrod," Victoria gasps, "was that whose blood was on your shirt today?"

"Yes, Mother. I was there, as was Fred, Dr. Merar, and Judge Clarkson." Jarrod meets her eyes as he prepares himself to tell the rest of the horrid story. He looks over at the other lawmen in the room who seem just as invested in what happened as his family does. "Phil had Fred and I summoned to meet him in the Judge's chambers. When we got there he confessed to a crime he committed almost four years ago and gave us two wires he received that concern Heath."

"Me?" Heath looks from Jarrod to the rest of the family. He is still so unsure of where he fits or if they can be trusted that he can't stop the burning threads of doubt creeping up his spine. "Why would they have anything do with me? I just met him for the first time yesterday."

"That is what we are hoping you can help us with. This is the second death tied to you and your relatives." Jarrod fails to mask the accusatory tone in his voice, a fact not lost on anyone in the room, especially Heath who tightens his jaw and buries his true feelings behind a mask of indifference.

"Now hold on," Frank is quick to jump to Heath's defense. "Heath had nothing to do with any of this and you all know it." He carefully eyes each family member trying to gauge their feelings towards Heath.

"I'm not saying he did but two men are dead…"

"Two men? Who was the other man?" Heath butts in trying to catch up.

"Judge Tyrone, the judge who signed Martha's release was poisoned in his home." Frank fills in the answer for him, to which Heath only nods.

"And you are the only link we have." Jarrod glances Heath's way and is shocked by the stone cold gaze looking back at him. "Someone is trying to get to you, Heath, and we need to figure out who before someone else is hurt."

"Now hold on Jarrod." Nick surprises everyone by stepping up to Heath's aid. "First you said Phil confessed to a crime, what crime? That doesn't seem like the Phil we know. And where are these telegrams?"

The room shifts from Nick back to Jarrod who rubs his hand on his knees and leans slightly forward.

"He said he signed a blank, fraudulent court order for a judge. Before he could tell us the name of the judge he was shot. He died a few hours later but was never able to finish telling us the name." Jarrod looks at the faces in the room and sees the disbelief in his siblings' eyes. "I am inclined to assume it was George he signed the order for."

"What makes you think it was George?" Victoria can hardly believe that Phil Archer would be involved in anything outside of the law but to think that her dear friend had also been involved leaves an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Because for the last three days, Phil told us he had eaten or had anything to drink because he was afraid. I assume he was afraid he would be poisoned like George."

"That's why Dr. Merar was there?" Gene looks over to Jarrod who nods in answer to his question.

"And we have no idea what the order was for," Jim asks to which both Jarrod and Fred shake their head.

"Y'all ever hear of a Molly Dowlin?" Frank scoots forward in his chair, a slight gleam in his eyes draws their attention.

"Yes," Audra answers when no one else responds. "Her father is a bookkeeper in Stockton. She was a couple years younger than me."

"Was?" Frank interrupts.

"Yes, she drowned almost four years ago. She disappeared on her way home from school. Apparently, she had decided to go for a swim. Her family was devastated especially her..."

"Twin siblings."

"Yes, but how did you know? Do you know them?"

"No, but I met a girl claiming to be Molly Dowlin at Ophir. Sheriff," Franks turns toward Fred, "was a body found?"

"A very badly decomposed body. We identified her based on clothing."

"You're thinking this order that Archer signed might have something to do with this girl?" Heath tries to sit up more but a sharp pain in his side stops him and he leans back again. He turns slightly and notices Victoria's observant eyes watching him, causing him to blush.

"I do," Frank responds, nodding to Heath. He looks over to Jarrod. "The order that committed this girl was signed by Judge Tyrone."

"Alright, so we have a lead on the order, though I am not sure a patient at Ophir is the most trustful source." Jarrod counters.

"That's true, but the girl knew an awful lot about this Molly Dowlin and she was the only one close to Martha Simmons."

"If it is true, why would Uncle George do something like that?" Audra looks to her mother and then Jarrod for an answer but when nothing is forthcoming it is Frank who responds.

"That is what I intend to find out, Miss Barkley." Frank gives her a small smile trying to reassure her.

"So that leaves the telegrams." Nick circles back wanting to make sure they cover everything. "Jarrod, do you care to share?"

With an annoyed look at his younger brother, Jarrod stands up and carefully takes the telegrams out of his pockets and hands them over to Jim who takes a minute to read them before passing them on to Frank. As they make their way around the room, each person takes a moment to read them before passing them on to the next.

"Heath." Jarrod turns to Heath and again is met with a steely gaze. He notices the sweat building on Heath's forehead and the tired look in his eyes and is shaken by a wave of guilt at his tone earlier. _Heath did not cause this_ , he reminds himself. "Can you think of anyone who would be able to put all of this in motion to get to you?"

"I honestly can't." Heath looks around the room. "Matt and Martha had no real friends, so I can't think of anyone who would help them get out and I can't think of anyone who would use them to get to me." He takes in a deep breath trying to rid himself of the guilt he feels over the death of these two men. With a small groan, he turns toward Mrs. Barkley and continues, "I'm sorry about your friends but I can't think of anyone that would have that kind of power."

"It's not your fault, Heath." Victoria takes his hand in hers though her eyes shift toward Jarrod.

"Heath," Jim walks over and kneels in front of Heath. "Frank and I have been trying to go over all the possibilities and we came up blank too. But there is one place we can't account for." Jim sees the panic in Heath's eyes and hears the quickening of his breath. Once again he wishes he did not have to dredge up the painful memories of Heath's past, especially not in front of his new family. "Can you think of anyone from that time or even that place?"

Heath shakes his head and raises a shaky arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead.

"What time? What place?" Jarrod asks, noticing Heath's intense reaction and thinking it may be an important clue as to who is pulling the strings.

Jim ignores him but continues talking with Heath who is looking paler by the minute. "Here are the names of the men who escaped with Matt - Jed Gatley, Josiah Brown, and Billy Tilson."

Heath's head shoots up as he mentions the last name, the recognition clear in his eyes. He responds, his voice barely above a whisper, "Tilson, there was a Tilson on my list."

"What list?" Jarrod asks, getting slightly annoyed at his questions going unanswered.

Again, Jim ignores Jarrod keeping his eyes focused on Heath. The boy is clearly shaking now and Jim is sure an onslaught of memories is washing over him. "Ok, Heath." he reaches over and squeezes the boy's shoulder. "We'll start there."

"OK, DO ONE OF YOU WANT TO FILL US IN?" Nick, lacking the patience of his older brother, yells. He can see whatever they are talking about is taking a heavy toll on his new brother.

Jim looks back to Frank and Alpha and then over to Heath whose head is down as he works to calm his breathing. "Heath?"

Heath slowly raises his head, his heart pounding in his chest, he looks around at everyone staring at him, waiting for an answer. "The war. I was a sharpshooter during the war. There was a Tilson in my orders."

"THE WAR? YOU WERE JUST A KID!"

"Yeah, I was." Is all Heath says but the finality in his voice leaves no question in anyone's mind that this is all he is willing to currently share on this subject. He looks directly at Nick and is taken aback by the look of admiration in his eyes.

"Hold on a second!" Gene blurts out and everyone turns towards him. "Sorry." He gives a small smile before he continues, "I think we got this wrong. I don't think this has to do entirely with Heath but rather us."

"And just how did you come to this conclusion?" Nick puts his hands on his hips and leans in towards Gene.

"Yes, Gene. I'm curious as well." Jarrod stands up and walks over to Gene.

"The first telegram." Gene holds it out to them like it is obvious. "It told Archer to cause a distraction on our ranch and then orders him to use Heath. They wanted us distracted. It seems like Heath was just a pawn."

"Yes, but the second one tells him to get Heath off the ranch and alone." Jarrod takes the telegram from Gene and stares at it for a moment deep in thought. "That said, maybe we should be looking at who would want us distracted and why?" Jarrod pats Gene on the shoulder. "Good catch, Gene."

Gene smiles up to his brother soaking in the unsolicited praise. Slightly embarrassed, he quickly glances around the room until his eyes settle on Heath who instantly looks away hoping no one caught the small pang of jealousy he felt at the brotherly connection between Jarrod and Gene.

"That certainly makes for a much longer list." Nicks scoffs.

"Mrs. Barkley?" Silas stands in the entranceway of the room patiently awaiting a response. "I am sorry to interrupt but you have another visitor. Shall I show him in?"

They had been so engrossed in their discussion that no one heard Silas enter the room or the knock on the front door.

"Yes, Silas. Thank you."

They all watch as Silas leaves the room for just a moment before returning with a young man about average height with brown hair.

"Buddy!" Victoria promptly rises from her seat and walks over to greet her godson. "Oh Buddy, it's so good to see you."

"Hello, Aunt Victoria. I do hope I am not interrupting."


	23. Chapter 23

He can hear the conversation swirling around him. _We were so sorry to hear about your father he was such a dear friend. Of course, we will do anything we can to help. Would you like to stay here we have plenty of room? Please stay for dinner._ The words only brush against his consciousness as the talk about the war stirred up memories from his past and they are parading themselves in the corners of his mind threatening to escape their concealment. He hauls in a deep breath and grips the edge of the settee as he works to calm the pounding of his heart and the throbbing in his side. By pure force of will, he pushes the memories back behind their wall in his mind. The last thing he wants is to wake the Barkleys in the middle of the night with his screams.

Leaning his head back against the settee, Heath closes his eyes as he tries to drown out the sounds of the voices behind him. They clearly love this man, Buddy Tyrone, Mrs. Barkley's godson and his siblings' good friend. He can hear it in their voices and he saw it on their faces when Buddy first walked into the room and they all jumped up quickly making their way across the parlour to surround the grieving man.

" _I wonder what that would be like for them to be happy to see me,"_ he thinks before he can defend himself against a wave of jealousy that sneaks its way under his skin.

He lets out a deep sigh. He's exhausted. The trip out to see Gal did help to calm his spirit but it had taken a toll on what little energy he possesses and now the guilt associated with the death of two good men is stripping him of the rest. Against his best efforts to silence the voices around him, he overhears Buddy talking about how the funeral for his father will take place tomorrow. A funeral that is tied to the release of his aunt and wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for him. _Once again someone is dead because of me._ _Mama, Aunt Rachel, Teddy, all gone because they stuck by me. Who's next? Frank, Jim, Alpha, one of the Barkleys?_ He tightens his grip on the edge of the settee. He wants nothing more than to leave, to get on Gal and ride away so that no one else is affected by his presence.

Lifting his head off the settee determined to make his way back to his room and pack his things, he looks down into the eyes of Frank who is kneeling before him.

"Hey, Heath, why don't you let Jim and I help you back-up to your room? You're looking a little tired, son?" Frank, who had been watching Heath from across the room, knows the young man will be warring with a variety of emotions from all that has been divulged. He knows Heath is in for a rough night and his pale features, the white-knuckle grip, and continuously tensing jaw told Frank that the struggle is already playing out in his young friend's mind.

The depth of caring Heath can see in Frank's eyes melt his resolve as he sinks back against the cushion. He knows that Frank would be furious with him if he left without warning so he gives him a quick nod before glancing back at the family who seems oblivious to anything other than Buddy in the room.

Seeing Frank rise after the nod from Heath, Jim and Alpha get up from their seats to help or at least accompanying the two men back up to Heath's room if the family permits it. They were also keeping an eye on the young blonde as the family gathered around their new guest and neither one of them missed the subtle glances Heath kept throwing at the family or the tension in his face as he refused to show emotion. They are both very familiar with Heath's tactics to remain closed off and isolated. They know he hates to be dependent on others and will do anything he can to hide his pain, whether physical or emotional, from those around him.

As they approach Frank, a firm grasp on Jim's arm stops him and he turns to see Fred standing beside him. Fred had been awfully quiet as they worked through the evidence they had found so far, but as an experienced lawman, Jim knows sometimes you have to take it all in before you begin dissecting what you've heard.

"If you all are going to go talk to Molly's family, I'd like to be there." Fred stands casually looking at the other lawman. He knows the reputation of Frank Sawyer and trusts that he is acting lawfully but this is still his town and his people.

"Of course, Fred. We were hoping you would join us." Jim smiles. He can always tell a dedicated lawman by how much they care for the people in their town. "We'd like to get over there first thing in the morning if that works for you?"

"That'd be fine." Fred nods and then shakes the offered hand. He looks back over to where Frank is helping Heath to stand. He doesn't know much about this new Barkley but the dedication he sees from these two seasoned veterans makes him wonder what this boy is all about. _I guess I will have time to find out if he plans on sticking around here._

With Heath back on his feet, Jim walks around to his right side and simply puts his arm out in case he should need the extra support, which Heath promptly holds on to. Frank and Jim exchange concerned looks as they listen to Heath trying to calm the panting from the exertion of just standing. They both know it is more than a bullet wound that is slowing his recovery, as his grief is also playing a leading role. Helping him to take a step forward they start a path around the family when six heads turn toward them.

"Oh Heath," Victoria walks over and stands in front of him. She looks around at the other gentlemen in the room. "I'm sorry, we seem to have forgotten our other guests."

She quickly begins to introduce Buddy to the other men gathered in the room and they quickly shake hands and exchange polite smiles. She purposely leaves Heath for last as she realizes that this is the first time she will be introducing him to someone not in the family, and has no idea what to call him. "Heath, I'd like you meet my godson, Buddy Tyrone. Buddy this is Heath," she pauses awkwardly, "he's my... well... he's Tom's son."

"Oh," is all Buddy can think to say as an uncomfortable silence wraps around the group and tightens the gaps between them, stifling the air in the room.

Frank feels Heath draw in a ragged breath and try to stand a little taller as he prepares himself for what generally comes next after people learn of the circumstances of his birth; the looks, the cold shoulder, and the silent accusations casually tossed around when he starts to leave the room. Mrs. Barkley's pause and her uncharacteristic falter were not lost on Heath who once again questions why his mama made him promise to come here when so far it has only brought pain to everyone. He looks up to his siblings hoping for some type of encouragement that they would stand by him in the face of rejection but their eyes quickly shift away from him and down to the floor. Casting his thoughts aside, Heath slowly reaches out his hand in greeting to this much-loved visitor.

"It's nice to meet you, Buddy."

"It's nice to meet you too, Heath," Buddy says enthusiastically, trying to make up for his initial response. He takes the offered hand and firmly grasps it between his. "Well, I guess that makes us family, too. I look forward to getting to know you." A broad smile that shines through his eyes graces his face.

Not really sure what to make of the person before him, Heath returns the smile with a small smirk of his own as his eyes glance over to the rest of the family. Gene and Audra can't seem to hide their happiness as big smiles spread across their faces while Nick and Jarrod remain seemingly emotionless.

"Well, it's been a long day so I think I will take my leave," Fred interrupts, sensing a need to put an end to the uneasy greeting. "If you'll excuse me I'll see myself out." He walks over to Buddy and offers his hand. "I was real sorry to hear about your father, he was a good man."

A firm handshake and a polite thank you are exchanged between the two men before Fred says his goodbyes and walks out of the parlour to take his leave.

Turning back to Heath, Victoria gives him a quick once over which causes him to shy away and look down at his feet, a gesture she wonders about before turning and looking at the two men holding him up.

"We were just going to help Heath backup to bed, Ma'am. If that's alright." Jim answers her unspoken question.

"Yes, of course. We would love to have you all stay for dinner as well." She graciously extends them the same invitation as she did Buddy.

"Thank you, Ma'am, but if it's alright we'd like to visit with Heath for a few minutes and then we can head out." Frank respectively replies. "We have an early day tomorrow."

"Of course." Victoria smiles at Heath. "I'll have Silas bring a tray up for you."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." He gives her a small smile before watching as his siblings, without a second thought, go back to talking attentively with Buddy as they head to the dining room. Heath doesn't even have the strength to hide his disappointment as not one of them say anything to him.

* * *

"Alright boy, how are you really doing? And don't try to hide it from me." Frank gently helps Heath to lean back against the freshly fluffed pillows behind him. He did not miss the hurt look on the boy's face as they left the parlour to head up to his room. In fact, he did not miss much of the interaction between Heath and the rest of the Barkleys.

"I'm…"

"Don't you dare say fine!" Jim teases as he pulls over a chair for him and Alpha near Heath's bed. They take their seats and then the three pairs of eyes patiently wait for the quiet boy to answer. They all know how much Heath hates talking about himself but it is obvious to them that he is clearly struggling with all that has happened in the last few months, not that they can blame him.

Heath keeps his head down and eyes focused on the cuff of his nightshirt that Frank helped him change back into once they got into the bedroom. He starts twisting the cuff and dares to look up and see the patient eyes of his friends looking back at him. He knows he should try to be more open with them and he believes that he can trust them, but in his experience the less you share, the further away you stay, the fewer chances people have to hurt you. It's a valuable lesson he has learned many times in his short life.

" _It's just better to be alone. That way I ain't burdening anyone with my problems._ "

"Heath, son." Frank, who is sitting on the end of the bed beside Heath's legs, pats him on the knee getting him to look up. "I know how much your mama meant to you and your Aunt Rachel. It can't be easy what you're going through. Add to that a new family, a brother who shot you…"

"I'll be alright. I'm just tired." Heath is quick to interrupt looking back to the cuff of his shirt. He doesn't want to talk about this right now, a feeling that is clear to everyone in the room.

"Alright Heath, I'll let that be your answer, **for now."** Frank concedes, knowing how stubborn Health can be and he doesn't want to push him if he's not ready. "Now you want one of us to stay tonight. All that talk downstairs is sure to stir up some unwanted memories."

"Nah, I'll be ok." Heath sure hopes that sounded more convincing than it felt. He quickly works to divert attention away from himself. "Y'all really think this girl is the key to finding how my aunt got out?"

"We do, not sure how but something's not right with all this. Too many coincidences and you know how I hate that," Frank laughs and sees a flicker of a smile coming from Heath. "We got the lead from her old pal Phelps."

"No, that weasel!"

"You should of seen it, Heath." Alpha jumps in, clearly excited about the role he played in the takedown. "We took him down in a poker game and I had to make myself the loser. Imagine that, me losing at poker."

Alpha could play professionally if he wanted to and if his family wasn't adamantly against it. He was the one who taught Heath how to play back in Strawberry. They all share a good laugh at Phelps expense as Jim animatedly retells the story of Phelp's arrest.

"Just be careful Alpha," Heath sobers, "I can't have anything happening to you cuz of me…"

"Heath," Alpha cuts him off, "How many times we gotta tell ya none of that was your fault. There was nothing you could have done and we all know that." He waits for a minute as his words register to Heath. Heath wrongfully carries the guilt of his older brother Teddy's death in a bank robbery when they both were deputies of Frank's. "Besides, Mama made Uncle Jim promise that not one hair on my pretty head would be missing when I returned."

"Pretty.. huh.. you look in the mirror lately?" Heath raises up one eyebrow as if examining new livestock.

"Yeah, Heath's the pretty boy!" Jim laughs and reaches over messing up Heath's hair. "Just look at that blush!"

"Hey now, I'm the injured…" His thought is cut short by the creak of the door as it opens wide to reveal Gene standing on the other side carrying a tray of food for Heath.

"Sorry to interrupt but I wanted to bring up your dinner." Gene walks into the room and sets the tray down on the dresser. He had heard the banter between the men before he walked in and now looking at Heath he could see an easiness about him that comes with being surrounded by people you trust. _I wonder if he'll ever feel that way with us._

"And that is our cue to leave." Frank gets up off the foot of the bed and walks up to Heath laying a hand on the boy's shoulder and in the most fatherly voice he can muster continues, "You eat, get better, and stay out of trouble. Lord knows it sure has a way of finding you," he smirks at Heath and is rewarded by a big smile, "We'll be back tomorrow night to let you know what we find out about the girl."

Heath nods and looks over as Jim and Alpha rise from their chairs. He knows how fortunate he is to have these men in his life and feels a swell of gratitude toward them.

"Uh… I just want to say…thanks...for coming and helping and all."

The three men just smile knowing how difficult those simple words were for Heath to say. Frank gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he heads toward the bedroom door with Jim and Alpha following.

* * *

Jed leans his shoulder against the frame of the bunkhouse porch, staring at the verandah of the big fancy house where he can see lights and movement inside. He had been told to be on the lookout for the signal, and low and behold that signal arrived in the form of a magnificent white stallion. It is finally time to put the plan into action. He smiles to himself as he thinks about what is in store for the bastard who seems to have forgotten his place in the world.

He personally has nothing against the kid, but he has been riding with Billy for the last five years and there is an unspoken loyalty amongst them. Until they were busted last spring for robbery and sentenced to ten years in San Quentin, they had enjoyed a prosperous life living off the unintended generosity of others. Luck must have been on their side the day they decided to take the belongings of an older gangly looking prisoner who was suffering from a bout of pneumonia. They didn't think the man would live through the night and almost felt sorry for him as the sweat poured off his convulsing body. Ironically, and not something Jed or Billy ever let Matt forget, it was the words Heath Thomson and bastard yelled out in pure delirium that ultimately saved him.

"Let the boys know to be ready on my call tomorrow," Jed whispers as he sees Barrett coming up to stand beside him.

Barrett takes a deep breath, smiles, and nods.


	24. Chapter 24

The grey tones seeping in through the slit in the thick curtains that line the large window to the left of his bed tell him that it is still an hour or so before sunrise. He is not sure what woke him from his peaceful sleep so he continues to lay still, allowing his senses to come awake as he listens for any type of disturbance that would have signaled a need to be alert so early in the morning. The house seems quiet so without a second thought he turns back to his right side, fluffs his pillow, and closes his eyes hoping to return to the world of wonder until the sun rises and wakes him to begin his day.

After a few minutes of being unable to fall back to sleep, he shifts to his left side and repeats the process only to have his mind wander and a gnawing feeling dig itself into the pit of his stomach. The feeling continues to grow and he begins to sense he has forgotten something and will find no peace until he remembers. Shifting onto his back, he stares up at the ceiling above him and tries to figure out what could possibly be bothering him so badly that it woke him from a deep slumber. Moving his legs over to hang off the edge of his bed he slowly gets up and walks over to his dresser where he splashes some water over his face and caves to the inevitable. _Might as well get up and get some work done._

Dressing quickly, he opens his bedroom door and walks out into the hall where he is struck again by the distressed feeling barreling through his chest. Pausing outside the door, he closes his eyes and again allows his senses to wander, listening intently for any type of noise that might be causing his uneasiness. He finds himself inching his way toward the once guest bedroom that is now occupied by his new half-brother. He remembers Frank's uneasy plea for them to keep an eye on him, that talk of the war usually stirs up some painful memories, a truth both Jarrod and he know all too well. Placing his ear up against the closed door, he stands there silently until he hears a muffled groan coming from within the room.

Doing his best to quietly ease the door open, Nick slowly walks over toward the bed using only the dim light of the hallway lanterns to guide his footsteps. He can see the form of the boy laying slightly on his left side and he notices a constant twitch in the tense figure. Turning up the wick on the light beside the bed, he notices that Heath is biting on his bottom lip and that blood is slowly trickling down his chin. His fists are curled into balls, his body is covered in sweat, and with each stifled scream, his body is racked with tremors. The boy is obviously in the grips of an intense nightmare and somehow, even in his sleep, he is doing his best to hide it from the family.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Nick gently places his hand on Heath's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze and a slight shake, hoping that will wake him.

"Heath, come on boy, wake up." Nick does his best to keep his voice even and his tone smooth, a quality only his family knows he is capable of.

Instead of waking, Heath's body stops moving altogether. Even his chest stops the normal rise and fall of breath being taken in as if he is frozen with fear. Nick gently guides Heath onto his back, grabbing onto both of his shoulders he again tries to shake him awake.

"Oh no, you don't! Don't hold your breath, Heath," He says louder this time, but again it has the opposite effect. He tightens his grip on the boy's shoulders and tries not to let his fear overtake him as he notices Heath's lips taking on a bluish tinge. "It's just me, Nick. Your hot-headed brother. Now come on, you're just dreaming. It's time to wake-up!"

Looking down at this kid in front of him, Nick is again struck by how young he actually is. If his mother's recollection of the affair is correct then Heath must be only about twenty years old. _He would have been only fifteen at the end of the war, which means he was younger than that when he served. I could barely handle it at nineteen. No wonder you have nightmares, kid._ Nick takes a good look at the boy before him and he tries to look at him like he would look at Gene. He thinks for a moment about how he would handle this if he thought of Heath as a little brother and without hesitation, he lifts Heath into his arms and begins rubbing his back letting him know he is safe and it is just a dream.

"I got you, boy. It's time to wake up. Come on now." He soothes, constantly rubbing the scarred back, each ripple of the skin sending disgust through him as he thinks about a small boy being beaten by his uncle. He feels the tension begin to release and notices the clenched fists loosen as Heath begins to breathe again. "That's it. You're safe."

Nick feels Heath's head shift on his shoulder and then immediately pull away as the grip of the nightmare releases its hold and he remembers where he is. Taking in a few deep breaths as the pain of his injuries return tenfold he allows Nick to gently lay him back down on top of his pillows. Beet red from embarrassment at having Nick not only witness his nightmare but then also cradle him until he finally awoke, he shifts his eyes away from Nick until his breath is slow and even.

"You want to talk about it?" Nick asks but a quick shake of the boy's head answers the question for him. Nick had noticed the horror in Heath's eyes as he began to wake up and he isn't about to push the issue.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Heath mumbles, still refusing to look at Nick. "Usually, I can keep 'em quiet."

Nick takes a moment to consider the boy before him. He smiles at the amount of pride he can see in the determined young man. The more he learns about this boy the more curious he is to know more and the more his respect continues to build. Thinking of a way to shift his attention away from the nightmare he reaches down and gives a reassuring squeeze to Heath's left shoulder.

"First, you shouldn't have to deal with them alone and second you didn't wake me. I was up and thought I heard a noise in here, so I was checking on you," He pauses waiting to see if Heath plans to respond and when it seems that Heath does not, he continues, "Come on, let's get you out of that nightshirt and check your wound. Can't have you catching a cold on top of everything else."

Heath still says nothing but watches as Nick gets up and heads over to the dresser where he pulls out a shirt and a pair of pants. He walks back over to the bed and sits down on the edge beside Heath, who is watching him intently. He then reaches over to the pitcher of water and pours some into a glass, handing it to Heath who quickly downs it.

"Sun'll be up soon. Wanna go down and watch it?" Nick stands up beside the bed and waits for Heath to move forward so he can help him get dressed but instead, Heath just gives him a curious look. Nick shifts a little in his stance as he answers the unspoken question, "When you first came, I kind of kept an eye on you. I'd see you go out every morning."

"You were spying on me?"

"Well, NO. YES." Nick fumbles with his answer. "OH COME ON, let's not get all up in the particulars. I'm trying here. So, how about it? You want to go outside or not?"

Heath's only response is a big smile which quickly turns into a laugh as his overconfident brother stumbles over his words. Nick's first reaction is anger until he sees the twinkle in this new brother's eye and can't help but start laughing as well.

"Alright, let's get you dressed."

A few minutes later the two are heading slowly down the back stairs toward the kitchen, where Heath assures Nick that Silas will have biscuits and coffee ready. Taking a minute to enjoy the warm biscuits straight from the oven and a hot cup of coffee the two brothers sit at the kitchen table in silence as they listen to Silas hum while he works. For Silas, the sight of the young man he has grown so fond of being helped downstairs by this particular brother warmed his heart. _Yes, sir, Mr. Nick, you just don't know it yet but you have found your partner. Just like your daddy always wanted._ He watches as Nick walks around to the other side of the table to gently help Heath rise from his seat as the two carefully make their way out the back door and over to the corral.

Leaning against the fence, the two brothers stand side-by-side and watch as the brilliant hues of reds and golds filter across the eastern horizon bringing life to a new day. Lost in the beauty of the rising sun, they stand in silence allowing themselves to be swept up in the calming nature of the moment.

"Thanks, Nick," Heath says after the sun had crested. He looks over to his brother, who can see the depths of appreciation in his expressive eyes causing Nick to shift under its weight. Nick's only response is to smile and nod.

"So, why do you like watching the sunrise so much?" Nick finally asks after the sun had made its ascent over the tree lines. He looks over to Heath who is now petting the ornery stallion who had come running over at the sight of him, which is something else Nick plans to ask Heath about.

"My…uh...mama," he pauses to gauge Nick's reaction to the mention of his mother. When there is none he continues, "It was our favorite time of the day. We both worked a lot and some days it was the only time I would get to spend with her. So it became special."

Nick looks over at Heath who has gone back to petting the stallion and is filled with an instant rage but instead of it being directed at Heath, as it has been before, it burns for his father. A man who knowingly lied to a young unsuspecting woman and left her to raise his child on her own. A child that grew up in abject poverty with an uncle who beat him and for some reason was forced to fight in the war.

"Heath. I...uh...I'm...I'm sorry I shot you." Nick watches as Heath turns toward him though he is still petting the stallion with his left hand.

"Why did you shoot me, Nick?"

"I don't know." Nick looks down toward his feet, he never was very good at apologizing. Forcing himself to look back up and make eye contact with the man who has his father's eyes, the man who he wronged, he continues, "I saw your gun, I saw Gene looking afraid and I got so angry. I guess I thought you were going to hurt him and I was going to stop you before you could."

"What did I do to make you think I would hurt him?" Heath didn't miss the shift in Nick's posture or the uncomfortable tinge to the usually confident voice.

"You came here," he states matter-of-factly, "and I didn't want to believe you were who you said you were. My father was my best friend and I thought I knew him."

"You did know him, Nick. Me existing doesn't change who he was to you, just means he wasn't perfect."

Nick stares directly at Heath for a moment before shifting his eyes up toward the now risen sun as he works to temper the rise of emotion that simple statement ignited in him. He clears his throat and turns back to look at his brother, unashamed at having to wipe away the remnants of his grief.

"Heath, I'd like to start over, if we can." Nick takes a moment to analyze the man before him. Heath is leaning a little more on the corral fence and slight sheen of perspiration can be seen on his face, but he looks content standing next to the stallion. "Don't know if you can forgive me for how I've acted and for what I did. And I can't promise you it will be a smooth ride, but I'd like to try."

Heath's heart is pounding so loudly that he thinks for sure Nick can hear it. Did he hear him correctly? Does he really want them to try to be friends, brothers? Should he trust him? He thinks back to last night when Buddy entered the room and Heath became non-existent to his siblings. Sure, Gene and Audra came up after Buddy left to spend time with him, but Nick and Jarrod were nowhere to be seen and now here he is asking for forgiveness. At the same time, even if Nick doesn't mean it does he really have anything to lose? _It's not like I ain't been disappointed before._

"Alright, Nick. I'd like that."

"Yeah?" Nick's face lights up into a contagious smile and he reaches out his hand to Heath who promptly takes it. Placing his other hand on Heath's shoulder he gives it a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, Heath."

"Now, let's get you back inside before I get my hide tanned for helping you. Everyone will be up early since we got to go to the funeral today. So I am sure Mother already knows you are missing." He walks over and lends his arm to Heath for support as they slowly start making their way back to the house. "And when we get back I want you to tell me how you made friends with that stallion. I swear that horse hates me."

"He's just smart, Nick," Heath says, his breathing becoming more labored but not so much that Nick doesn't catch his lopsided grin.

* * *

Standing beside the barn, Jed and Snyder watch as the Barkley family makes their way onto the verandah as Ciego brings around the buggy for Jarrod, Mrs. Barkley, and Audra to ride in. Nick and Gene had decided to ride their own mounts as they both had errands to run once the funeral was over. Looking over to the bunkhouse he sees Barrett and Colb making their way toward the back of the house with the supply wagon. They had made an early run to town for Silas and were lining up the wagon to be unloaded.

" _It almost seems too easy._ " Jed thinks as he starts to walk over to meet up with the other two men.

While Jed is making his way over to Barrett, Snyder is heading over to talk with Tommy, the man who had volunteered to be on guard duty today and the man who is stationed at the back of the house near the recently arrived wagon. Taking one more glance back over his shoulder to where Snyder is talking with Tommy to make sure he is not paying attention, Jed grabs hold of a large black tarp laying in the back of the wagon and throws it over the side before walking back to climb into the driver seat. With the signal to move, Billy and Josiah jump down from the back of the wagon and run, guns drawn, into the back of the Barkley house where Barrett and Colb had just entered.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note:** I made a very small revision at the end of Chapter 23. It is just one line toward the end that talks about when Billy met Matt Simmons in prison. Thank you again for reading!

* * *

Frank smiles as he allows himself a small whiff of the strong brew nestled in the porcelain cup perched neatly on top of a matching saucer that was handed to him the moment he sat down. Taking a sip he delights in the smooth flavor, he glances up and nods his appreciation to Mrs. Dowlin who smiles back at him while taking her seat beside her husband and gently clasping his hand hoping to calm the slight shaking of hers. A fact that is not missed by the observant eye of the seasoned lawman and he again starts to question whether or not he should risk reigniting the crippling pain caused by the tragic loss of their child. Unfortunately, he can't shake the feeling that he needs to help the girl locked away in the basement, so he decides to stay true to his current course.

He looks over to Fred who shifts uncomfortably in his chair and sympathizes with the man who only a few short years ago had to deliver the message to this couple that their oldest child had been taken from them. Now he is here to potentially give them false hope that she may actually be alive. Frank shifts his gaze back over to the loving couple and takes in their features trying to mentally compare them to the girl he met at Ophir. Both Mr. and Mrs. Dowlin have dark brown hair with wisps of grey adding natural highlights throughout and brown eyes, though neither one of their eyes match the depth he saw in the patient at Ophir. Mrs. Dowlin is a petite, dainty woman while her husband stands tall and portly, probably from the years of office work.

Taking another sip of the nicely brewed coffee, he catches Mr. Dowlin's eye, lets out a small sigh, and thinks about how best to proceed. He looks back over to Fred, who leans down and sets his own coffee on the table between them before placing his elbows on his knees and running his hands over his face as if to wash away the guilt he feels over what he is about to say.

Feeling slightly protective of his family, Mr. Dowlin reaches his other arm around his wife and pulls her closer to him as he looks over at Fred. "You said this was about Molly, Fred?"

"I did." Fred straightens up in his chair and then gestures to Frank. "This here is Marshall Frank Sawyer and well…," he takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, "I don't know how to tell you this so I am just going to come right out and say it, he met a girl claiming to be Molly."

'What!" Mr. Dowlin's anger is quick to rise while his wife's tears begin to freely fall down her face. "You can't be serious. We buried our little girl!"

"Our Molly, alive? Oh, James, she's alive. I just know it" Mrs. Dowlin looks over to her husband who pulls her closer.

"James, Helen," Fred tries to reign in their expectations, "we don't know for sure who she is but she knew enough about you that we thought it best to ask. Do you mind if Marshall Sawyer looks at a picture of Molly?"

Mr. Dowlin slowly releases his wife then leans in and kisses her on her forehead before rising and walking over to the fireplace mantel across the room. He reaches up and takes down the small frame with a single picture. Absently he traces the familiar face staring back at him before he catches them all watching him. He looks over to his wife, his anchor, his friend and pulls strength from their commitment to each other before walking back over and handing the frame to Frank, who nods his head in appreciation while setting down his coffee cup and respectively takes the picture from Mr. Dowlin's hand.

"Where did you meet this girl?" Mr. Dowlin takes his seat next to his wife before returning his eyes to Frank who is staring at the image before him.

"Ophir," he whispers carefully analyzing the features of the much younger girl in the photo.

"The mental institution!" Mr. Dowlin yells.

"Now hold on James, we wouldn't be here without good reason." Fred scoots forward in his chair ready to stifle any acts of aggression pain can cause.

"Some crazy girl tells you she is our daughter and you think you need to come here and upset my wife." His voice rising he reaches over and clasps on to his wife's hand, looking directly at Frank who has finally looked up. "Have you ever lost a child? Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"No, I haven't and I am sorry. But I wouldn't have come if I didn't think there was something about the girl." Frank's voice is laden with sincerity but also with finality, a practice he has learned to perfect since delivering hard news comes with the profession. "When was this photo taken?"

"It was taken right before we lost her." Mrs. Dowlin answers for her husband as she gently dries the fallen tears on her face. Her voice is strong and her eyes are hopeful. She thought she saw a hint of recognition in Frank's eyes when he was staring at the picture. "She had just turned 13."

"I don't want to get your hopes up..." He stands and hands the photo back to the Dowlins. "...but I think we should take a trip to Ophir."

* * *

Clad in a dark suit of mourning, Buddy Tyrone leads the procession of the family's closest friends as they make their way to the final resting place of a once great leader, father, and friend. Underneath a large oak nestled on top of a small hill toward the back of the cemetery, a beautifully engraved marble headstone marks the forever resting place of Buddy's beloved mother and will now reunite his parents in their eternal slumber. Wrapping his arm around his godmother's waist and grasping the hand of Audra who walks beside him, Buddy siphons their strength as he moves closer to saying goodbye to the one person who loved him unconditionally.

Reverend Harper, who is standing at the top watching as the group gathers, takes a step forward to grasp the arm of the fallen man's only son, a boy he has watched grow into the fine young man he is today. He looks out over the large crowd. Judge Tyrone was a respected part of the community and the gathering of mourners from across the state are proof of the legacy he has left behind. Raising his arms in a gesture to promote silence he allows the crowd to calm before he begins to lead them in a short prayer and a much longer sermon.

As the morning wanes and the service ends, only a small group remains looking out over the small valley with its one rolling hill, where so many have come to lay their heads down one final time. The Barkleys and Buddy stand together looking down at the fresh mound of dirt and the elaborate headstones that will soon bear two Tyrone's names. Victoria has her arm around Audra's waist who is holding onto Jarrod's hand, while Nick and Gene are standing next to Buddy who can't seem to tear his eyes away from the image before him. It was a beautiful service, but as is true with most things that mark a finality in one's life it is hard to step away and move forward.

"I can't believe he's gone. I keep expecting him to come up behind me and place his hand on my shoulder and ask me what I need." Buddy looks up and glances into the faces of his friends.

"It'll get easier but you'll always miss him." Gene reaches over and pats Buddy's arm offering him his support. "Just have to take it day-by-day."

"Thanks, Gene." He looks up and smiles at the family surrounding him until he makes eye contact with his godmother who means the world to him. Victoria, sensing his need, walks over and gently cradles his face in the palms of her hands.

"Your father loved you so very much and he was incredibly proud of you. I know he would want to you to continue to pursue your goals and I want you to know we are all here to help you if you need us."

"Thank you, Aunt Victoria. It means a lot to me." He quickly looks away unable to hold her gaze, he looks back over the land and the headstones. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes for a moment as he considers his next move. "I was hoping you all might join me for a nice lunch at Cattlemen's."

He looks at them, hopeful.

"Of course, Buddy. We'd love that." Jarrod answers for the family and with only one more look they all head toward the horses and buggy.

* * *

The partially opened curtains allow the golden rays of the sun to brush across the pale features of the young man resting peacefully in the high back chair with his feet propped up on a stool in front of him. Still fully dressed in the clothes Nick had helped him into for their excursion out to watch the sunrise, Heath's head lays gently to the side and soft sounds of an occasional deep breath can be heard echoing across the room. This is the first truly deep healing sleep Heath has had since he arrived on the ranch.

The trip out to watch the sunrise opened up Heath's world to a possibility he knows better than to imagine, one where he would be able to find a place, a home and maybe even a family. He would never have expected Nick to apologize or ask to start over and while he knows it is a fleeting dream he had allowed it to lull him into a much needed dreamless sleep. Not that he needed much help, he had practically fallen into the chair when Nick walked him back into the room. When Nick reached down to remove his boots he waved him off asking if he could keep them on for just a little longer.

"Well, looky what we have here," Billy laughs, startling Heath awake as he reaches down and clasps his hands around Heath's neck, cutting off his air. "An injured bastard left all alone in this big house."

He laughs again and tightens his crushing grip causing Heath's frantic eyes to shoot around the room as his hands try to loosen the hold the man has around his neck. The man holding him is twice his size in weight and in his weakened condition he knows he is no match for him physically. Still, he continues to try to break free, an effort that only causes the man to laugh harder, tighten his grip, and pull Heath into a standing position.

Black dots dance in the corners of Heath's eyes as he feels himself losing the battle with consciousness, he smiles slightly at the thought that at least he'll die on a good day before the inevitable happens where Nick changes his mind and sends him packing. He feels his eyes closing and his hands flop down to his sides as the grip once again tightens and then he feels himself flying. So this is death, he thinks until his body slams into the wall behind him and he crumbles to the ground gasping for breath.

Before he has time to register what is happening two painful kicks lift him off the floor sending waves of excruciating pain through his cracked ribs. He feels himself being dragged off the floor by two hands clasping onto his shirt. Shoved up against the wall, he tries to focus on those in the room but the continuous blows to his face and chest make it impossible for him to breathe let alone focus on whose in front of him.

"Come on Billy, we can't kill him here." Josiah walks over from his position at the door and grabs onto Billy's arm stopping the next blow to Heath's face. "We got a job to do and there will be plenty of time to make him suffer."

Billy nods at Josiah's words and shoves Heath back up against the wall. He smiles at the blood pouring out of Heath's nose, the busted lip, and the bruises already forming on his face. He leans in close to Heath's face as the boy tries to focus on him and smiles a toothy grin, his rancid hot breath bearing down on Heath's senses.

"I'm just getting started with you, boy. You killed my brother and I am going to enjoy watching you die a slow painful death."

He pulls back letting go of Heath's shirt and grabs onto his arm shoving the boy forward causing Heath to fall painfully onto his hands and knees.

"Get up, boy!" Billy yells.

Trying to steady his breath, Heath slowly moves his left foot under him and works to drag himself up to a standing position while taking in the scene before him. He knows he needs to think of a way out of this before they get him off the ranch. He knows that if they take him he is as good as dead.


	26. Chapter 26

He can hear the words being spoken by the man named Bill Tilson who is shoving the barrel of his gun into his back, but the pulsing waves of pain coursing through his body is making the effort of deciphering the words near impossible. By pure stubborn will, Heath has slowly made it out of his room and to the back stairs all the while trying to figure out what move he can make to get himself out of this situation. He knows the Barkleys left to attend the funeral for their good friend and that only he and Silas were left in the house. Heath doubts that any of the hands will risk their lives for that of the Barkley bastard, so any hope of outside intervention is minimal. _Silas, where are you? Are you ok?_

Another shove of the gun prompts him to take a painful step forward as he reaches down to grip the railing that lines the backstairs. Pausing to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart, he tries to listen for any sound that Silas is downstairs so that he can try to keep him out of danger. The silence emanating from the kitchen fills him with hope that his dear friend is safe, one less person harmed because of him. He moves onto the top step and feels the cold hand of his captor tighten around the back of his neck. Leveling the gun against Heath's temple, Bill moves in close behind the barely standing boy.

"You try anything, you're dead," Bill snarls into Heath's ear, "and we'll kill anyone we come across on our way out."

Josiah's laugh from behind Bill sends chills down Heath's spine. He nods, understanding that any move he makes must be done in surety that the two men behind him will be unable to retaliate against anyone else. He takes another step forward gingerly working his way down the stairs, almost thankful for the grip on the back of his neck that is inadvertently helping to keep him on his feet.

* * *

Since word got out about his part in the incident with the snake, William "Billy" Lawson knew his days on the Barkley ranch were limited. Jarrod and Nick had sat him down and explained what they were able to find out about his brother, his brother's crimes, and the deal he struck with Phil Archer. They told him they were going to leave it up to Heath to decide his fate.

In some ways it was a relief, he didn't like being a part of the scheme and really didn't like the idea of hurting the Barkleys. They had given him a chance when most would have turned him away. Even the half-Barkley seemed like a decent sort of fellow if he was being honest, and lately, all he wanted to do was be honest. So this morning he had decided that the first chance he got he was going to head over to the main house and talk with Heath about what happened and whether or not he would allow him to stay on.

Making his way over to the main house, he sees the supply wagon parked in the back with Jed sitting in the driver's seat apparently waiting. He remembers the chore list for the day and knows that Jed is supposed to be out in the south pasture helping mend a few downed fences but doesn't think much of it as it is not abnormal for the assignments to change. Unaware of what awaits him, he casually walks undetected behind the wagon and enters the house through the back door of the kitchen.

* * *

The dust kicks up around their feet as they quickly make their way back to the cafe they left only a few minutes ago. An unexpected telegram delivered this morning had sent Jim and Alpha on a mission of their own that largely consisted of telegrams and coffee while they waited for varying responses. The divided group had agreed to meet at the cafe after Frank and Fred met with the Dowlins so that each set of men could share any information that had been discovered. With their last telegram sent the two were anxious to meet with Frank and then head out to the Barkley ranch to see Heath.

As more pieces of this puzzle spread out before them, the continuous unexpected twists pile on more questions with very little answers. For Jim and Frank, an uneasy feeling has been gnawing at them as their intuition keeps pushing them further down this proverbial rabbit hole. Now with this morning's telegram exchange between Jim and his contacts in Sacramento, the list of questions has grown but it is also forged a new feeling of doubt in Jim as to who the real target is. _Is Heath just a pawn in some elaborate game?_

Seeing the men they seek, Jim and Alpha head over to the table and quickly sit in the open seats while motioning to the waitress to bring over two coffees. It is clear from the posture of the two men sitting across from them that they come bearing news that has left them both outraged and oddly hopeful. Politely exchanging greetings the four men wait until the waitress has served them before beginning to fill in each other with the most recent developments.

"So you think it might be her?" Jim watches as Frank leans forward, elbows on the table, and takes a sip of the fresh coffee.

"I think so," he finally says, "Sure looks like her and the girl I met was nowhere near twenty. I didn't want to get their hopes up but I bet my badge that girl is their daughter."

"Why would Judge Tyrone lock up a child in a place like that?" Alpha's voice is dripping with disgust.

"I don't know," Jim exhales and leans in toward the group, "and unfortunately it doesn't look like the past superintendent will be of any help. My sources were able to confirm Dr. Tilden was found dead in his home three days ago."

"Poisoned?" Fred asks.

"No way to know for sure. His wife found him slumped over his desk in the study. Wilbur, the sheriff there, says he suspects foul play but he has no way to confirm it."

"Sounds a lot like how the judge was found," Frank interjects.

"Which means if this is Molly, she may be in need of protection," Alpha adds.

"Yep, it sure does," Frank agrees, "I'll send a wire before we leave to have a couple of marshalls meet us at Ophir when we arrive."

The four men pause for a moment to finish their coffee while looking out the window toward the busy streets of Stockton.

"This Dr. Tilden," Fred breaks the silence as a new thought occurs to him, "he admitted Molly and made sure to follow through on the demands of the order, which leads me to believe he received some kind of compensation. Maybe that is something we can trace."

"Good thinking, Fred," Frank smiles, "When I get to Sacramento I look at his accounts and I can talk with his wife."

"Alright, sounds like we have a plan." Jim starts to rise from his chair. "Alpha and I will head out to the Barkleys before Heath decides to go scouting on his own as we all know that boy would do," he laughs, "Frank, we will wait to hear from you before we decide on our next move."

"Sounds good," Frank agrees as he also rises from his chair, "Fred, I'll wire you once we meet with the girl."

The four men quickly pay their bills and down the last bit of their coffee before walking out onto the boardwalk in front of the cafe. They take a moment to allow the warmth of the mid-morning sun to renew their hope that they are one step closer to finding out who is behind all the mayhem. The sound of approaching horses draws their attention to the street before them as they see the prominent Barkley family and one Buddy Tyrone headed their way.


	27. Chapter 27

His breath is becoming more labored as black dots dance in the corners of his eyes making it hard for him to focus. Looking down, he realizes they have made it past the first set of stairs onto the landing before the last three that lead into the kitchen. He leans his hand against the wall to steady himself as he turns. He knows better than to stumble as the two men behind him will relish in his weakness and undoubtedly cause him more pain.

Trying to slow his breathing he starts to take the first step when the sound of the door opening draws Heath's concentration away from the task at hand and focuses it instead on the person entering. The last thing he wants is for anyone on the Barkley ranch to be harmed by the trouble he brought to them, especially Silas. He quickly glances around the room for anything that might help him protect the innocent bystander from the deadly aim of his captors.

Heath's breath catches and he is unable to stop a quiet sigh of relief as he sees Billy, the ranch hand who Jarrod had told him was responsible for releasing the snake the day he was shot, and not Silas step through the door. Bracing, unsure if this is friend or foe, Heath draws upon his final reserve and prepares himself for whatever is to come. Though, it quickly becomes clear, as he watches the shocked expression spread across Billy's face as he looks at the scene before him, that he had no idea any of this was happening.

"What the hell!" Billy shouts as he reaches for his gun.

The release of pressure off of Heath's temple signals the intention of Tilson, as he watches in horror as Billy fumbles with his gun. It is rather apparent that he is no match for the skilled marksman he is up against. Josiah leans back against the wall, making no attempt to move but rather allow Tilson to have his fun with the unprepared prey. Thinking quickly, Heath shifts his weight slightly to the right, ignoring the burning pain through his side that the action causes him, and before Tilson can fire his gun he quickly pushes Tilson's arm, throwing off his shot so that it goes wide, missing Billy completely.

Knowing this may be his only chance to escape he rams Tilson back against the wall and with speed belying his weakened condition he produces a knife from inside his boot and instantly plunges it deep into the man's chest. Tilson's eyes go wide with horror as his hands reach up to grab the hilt of the knife before he falls back dead against the wall.

Heath hauls in a deep breath ignoring the screaming of his ribs and stumbles slightly as he is finding it increasingly hard to steady himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Josiah taking aim at Billy whose gun is in his hand but whose slight hesitation makes it obvious he is not remotely fast enough to beat out a ruthless killer. Without thinking he tackles the larger man just as he pulls the trigger, sending them both down hard against the stairs. Knowing he is in no condition to fight, Heath nails Josiah twice in the jaw and then tries to move back up the stairs away from the dazed man. It doesn't take long for Heath to see the folly in his actions as Josiah is quick to recover and trips him as he tries to crawl away. Grabbing hold of Heath's shirt, Josiah easily tosses the boy back down onto the landing a few steps away.

Landing hard against his back, Heath's world slows as he struggles to draw air back into his lungs. His adrenaline waning, he wants nothing more than to just close his eyes and allow the darkness to take him. His head falls to the right and he sees Billy, lying in a dark pool of blood steadily flowing from the wound in his shoulder, looking at him. Their eyes meet and a silent declaration passes between them as Heath feels hands wrap around his shirt ready to drag him to his feet. As the grip on his shirt tightens, he looks back to Tilson's lifeless form and a small glimmer of light reflecting off metal catches his eye causing him to smile. Tilson's gun is laying right beside him. Gripping the handle, he looks into Josiah's eyes knowing that even if he dies at least he'll know he took these bastards with him.

* * *

The sound of gunfire coming from the main house echoes across the homestead causing the hands who had been tasked with standing guard to race toward the closest door. Red and Scotty, who had been standing in the front and to the side of the house, respectively, reach their destination within seconds. Motioning for Scotty to head upstairs to check the upper floors, Red turns toward the parlour when a crashing noise redirects them both toward the kitchen. Quietly inching in the direction of the noise, the sound of a third shot sends both men running into a scene the two would never have imagined.

Tommy and Snyder had been laughing about the dance coming up this weekend and the ladies they were hoping would dance with them when the sound gunshots ring out causing the two men to jump. Instantly darting toward the back door with Snyder close in tow, Tommy curses his choices. He knows that if anything happens to that boy while the Barkleys are gone he can kiss his job goodbye not to mention facing the wrath of Nick. As they run, he breathes a momentary sigh of relief as he watches Jed jump down from the driver's seat of the wagon and with his gun drawn enter through the back door.

Silas, who had been strangely bombarded with ridiculous questions while showing Barrett and Colb where to put the supplies they had brought in, immediately pushes past the two men doing their best to stop him from leaving the pantry. Eyeing them suspiciously, he turns and runs toward the kitchen just as the third shot rings out followed by the sound of a large object falling. Thinking of Mr. Heath, Silas doesn't hesitate to enter with Barrett and Colb close behind him. A loud gasp reverberates through the three, as they look upon the scene in front of them.

A large man, clad in your normal ranch hand attire but with a heavily stocked gun belt, lay at their feet with blood pouring out of a single hole in his forehead. Beside him lays Billy in a pool of what they assume is his own blood looking at them through eyes that are mere slits and his breathing seems almost non-existent. Walking further into the room, Silas fears what he will find as turns toward the back stairs and sees Bill Tilson laying dead on the stairs with a knife protruding from his chest. Fearing the worst he turns toward the landing and instantly releases the breath he was holding as he sees two cloudy blue eyes looking back at him. Heath is sitting slumped against the wall with his long legs stretched out over the first few stairs going back up toward the second floor. His left eye is almost swollen shut, bruises and blood cover most of his face, and his breath is coming in shallow gasps. He looks as though at any moment he will pass out, with his right arm laying lifeless to the side, but the death grip his left hand has on a shiny Colt leaves no questions in Silas' mind that he is ready and prepared to use it.

Silas goes to take a step toward him but stops as he hears the back door slam open and Jed burst inside, gun drawn. Taking a step toward Heath, Jed raises his gun as he looks down at his friends lying dead, an action not missed by Silas who though unarmed steps toward the man when the sound of the others entering breaks through and Jed quickly holsters his gun.

"What the hell!" Red yells as he comes to stand beside Silas. He quickly bends down and begins unbuttoning Billy's shirt to gain access to his wound. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he uses it to apply pressure and slow the flow of blood. Glancing around the room his eyes meet Heath's and he can tell the boy is in a world of pain.

"Silas, would you please get some bandages and liniment?" Red asks politely before turning to face the other men.

"Colb, get over here and keep pressure on this wound. Barrett, Snyder get these dead bodies out of here. Scotty go check upstairs make sure this is all of them. Tommy, ride to town and get the doctor, the sheriff, and Nick if you can find him."

"Yes, sir." Tommy flies out the back door.

Red stands as Colb takes his place beside Billy. He looks on as Barrett and Snyder grab the hands and feet of Josiah's lifeless body on the floor and begin carrying him toward the door. "Where'd Jed go?"

"Don't know boss," Barrett is quick to answer, looking nervously around the room, "you want me to go find him?"

"Nah leave it be," Red says as he takes a step toward Heath who instantly shifts the barrel of Colt toward him.

"Stay...back," Heath commands though his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Now, I ain't going to hurt you son." Red watches as Heath's eyes shift around the room. He can't blame the boy for being wary after the way the men have treated him.

"Ain't...your...son."

"Heath." Red shakes his head and almost chuckles at how much of a Barkley this boy is. "I'd just like to help you."

Red takes another step forward as he sees Silas coming back in carrying a basket of medical supplies and setting them down by Colb. Heath shakes his head at Red and holding the gun steady warns him away from coming any closer.

"Mr. Heath, what are you doing? You put that gun away and let me and Red help you!" Silas walks right over to Heath and bends down beside the boy.

"Silas," Heath's voice begs not taking his eyes off of Red.

Seeing the determination and fear in Heath's pain filled eyes, Silas gently runs his fingers through Heath's hair.

"Alright, Mr. Heath, Alright. You keep hold of that gun but at least let me tend to you and help you move out of the way so they can take him outta here," he nods toward Tilson, "Ok?"

Heath nods and Silas gently reaches over to help Heath sit up a little straighter and turn to face the kitchen. The slump of the boy's weight against his shoulder worries Silas but he keeps his motions steady and gently lays Heath's head back against the wall. He looks down at the trusting blue eyes looking back at him and smiles.

"You're gonna be just fine. You hear me! Just fine."


	28. Chapter 28

The bright rays of the high sun let the gathering group know they have reached the noon hour and it is time to make their departure from the boardwalk they have been standing on for the last few minutes. Buddy takes a moment to graciously extend the invitation of lunch to the lawmen who politely decline as each already has prior engagements that they must attend. The train taking Frank and the Dowlins to Sacramento leaves at one o'clock and he does not want to chance being late and Fred is anxious to get back to his investigation into the death of Phil Archer. Jim and Alpha are anxious to get out to the ranch to see Heath so they respectfully decline.

For Jarrod and Nick, the unexpected meeting of the two parties outside the cafe is a welcome turn of events. Despite their best efforts to stay focused today during the ceremony, their minds were continuously wandering to Heath, the Simmons, and Molly. They both have been closely monitoring the demeanor of the lawmen during this chance encounter and can't help but feel something was discovered in their meeting this morning with the Dowlins. They both know to keep their curiosity in check and wait to ask their questions until they can speak with the other men in private, something that will happen once lunch is finished and they can meet up with Jim and Alpha back at the house.

"Well this has been a pleasure," Frank politely tips his hat to the ladies, "but I have an appointment to get to. If you all will excuse me." With a nod to the gentlemen, he untethers his horse's reins and quickly rides away as the group watches.

"I think I'll…," Fred stops mid-sentence as he notices a galloping horse flying past them only to abruptly stop and turn back toward them.

Recognizing the horse and rider, Nick steps forward off the boardwalk as the rider comes to stop in front of them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nick yells, "Are trying to ride that horse into the ground!"

"Nick! Sheriff, I'm glad I found you." Tommy takes a deep breath settling his nerves.

Seeing the distraught look on the face of their hand, Jarrod and Gene step up behind Nick, as does Jim and Alpha. Victoria, Audra, and Buddy stay on the boardwalk but move closer so they are able to hear.

"There was a break-in at the ranch. Two men tried to grab Heath." Tommy blurts out, breathless.

"WHAT? WHEN?" Nick takes a step toward Tommy, his right-hand curling into a fist with anger.

"Is Heath okay?" Gene quickly asks, the concern evident in his voice causing Jim to eye him approvingly.

"I'm not sure. He was pretty beat up and Billy was shot. Red sent me to get Fred and the doc and you, Nick, if I could find you."

"You were supposed to be guarding the house," the anger in Nick's voice is clear as he berates Tommy. Already untethering their horses and climbing into their saddles, Nick and the others turn their horses around, ready to ride. "How did this happen?"

"It's my fault, Nick. I'm sorry," Tommy's voice cracks slightly under the pressure as he tries to hold Nick's gaze. "Snyder was talking to me…."

"SNYDER?" Nick's voice moves from anger to alarm at the mention of Snyder's name. Snyder was among those who took pleasure in letting Heath know he wasn't welcome. "Who was in the house when you left?"

"Um...Red, Colb, Snyder, and Barrett."

"DAMMIT!" Nick yells. Those three, especially Barrett, seem to hate Heath and have done everything they can think of to get him to leave, a sentiment that Nick had agreed with up until this last week. _Do I really think they would do this? They've been with us for years. I mean beating on the boy is different than helping killers kidnap him. I guess the real question is am I willing to risk Heath's life?_ He takes off at a gallop, leaving the other men staring at the backside of his horse as he pushes Coco hard in a race toward home.

"They've had it in for Heath since he got here," Gene answers the questioning looks coming from Jim and Alpha. He then looks over to Tommy who seems uncertain as to what he should do, "Tommy, get the doc and meet us back at the house," he says before taking off after his brother.

Not needing any more of an explanation Jim, Alpha and Fred take off after Nick and Gene. Watching his brothers go, Jarrod can't help but take a step forward wanting desperately to follow, but he had agreed to drive the buggy and leave Jingo behind. Sensing Jarrod's anguish as his brothers ride away, Buddy steps over to him and places his hand on Jarrod's shoulder.

"Here Jarrod, take my horse." He untethers the reins on his stallion and hands them to Jarrod, who absently takes them. "I can ride back in the buggy with Aunt Victoria and Audra back to the ranch."

"Are you sure Buddy?" Jarrod asks appreciatively. They had just buried this young man's father and here he is unselfishly trying to help him. "It's just…"

"He's your brother," Buddy smiles, "Go. I'm fine in the buggy."

"Mother?"

"Go, Jarrod, hurry," Victoria encourages, the worry so clear in her grey eyes. She and Audra are holding on to each other both wishing that they had also ridden in on their own mounts and that they were not reliant on the slow buggy to bring them back home. "Audra and I will be right behind you."

* * *

The site of the white pillars announcing his arrival back at the main house does little to slow the race of his heart as he leaps down from Coco and hands the reins over to Ciego who was already standing out front, ready to greet him. For Nick, the entire ride back to the house has been laced with guilt. Guilt over the example he set in front of the men that led to Heath being so vulnerable in a place he should feel safe. A truth, Nick is now determined to change.

He can't say for sure when his mindset shifted and Heath became his little brother instead of some saddle tramp here to ruin his father's good name. It might have been when he found the letter and the photo or when he had been so blindsided by anger that he shot Heath for no real reason. It doesn't really matter. What does matter is that Heath is his little brother and he'll be damned if anyone is going to take him away before he gets a chance to know him.

Heading straight for the door, he sees Scotty and Will standing on the front steps nervously watching him as he approaches. Both men are armed with rifles and are obviously keeping watch over the front of the house, a job he is sure Red assigned to them.

"I'll talk to both you of you later," Nick says as he goes to storm past them, "right now I want to see about my brother."

The two men exchange confused looks. This was the first time they had ever heard Nick refer to Heath as his brother.

"Ah, Nick, sir...he's still in the kitchen." Scotty stutters out knowing how Nick is bound to react.

"YOU WOULDN'T EVEN HELP HIM UPSTAIRS TO HIS BED!" Nick's face is turning red as the rage and shame build within him. This is his fault.

"It ain't like that Nick, honest! He wouldn't let us near him. Red tried to get him upstairs but he warned him away. Can't say I blame him with how we treated him and all but after what he did for Billy, I'd be glad to help him."

The sound of horses draws his attention away from the two men and he looks back to see the others approaching. Turning back to Scotty he eyes the man intently, causing the man to look away unable to hold his gaze.

"What did he do for Billy?" Nick asks through gritted teeth.

"Saved his life." Willy blurts out, "Least that's how Billy tells it when we moved him to the infirmary. Said he could barely stand yet somehow he fought both men and if it wasn't for him they'd of shot him dead on."

Nick shifts back onto his heels unable to stop the flow of pride he feels for this new brother. He looks back to see the others dismounting from their horses and heading over to the front stairs.

"Heath's still in the kitchen. He wouldn't let anyone help him," he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way through the front doors and heads towards the kitchen.

Without hesitation, Gene and Jarrod follow Nick inside while Jim places a hand on Alpha's shoulder, who had moved to follow the others, holding him back.

"We need to let his brothers do this," Jim gently tell Alpha as the young man tries to shrug out from under his grip.

"But…"

"I know. I want to go make sure he is alright, too. But he needs to start trusting his brothers, we both know how stubborn he is." He turns Alpha around and nudges him forward. Alpha takes one more look back toward the house, toward his friend, before walking over to where Fred is standing. "Come'on we can help Fred figure out what happened and then once the doc has a chance to check Heath out we will go visit with him."

* * *

As the men make their way around the corner and into the kitchen they see Red sitting at the table with a small smile on his face. Colb is scrubbing the blood off the kitchen floor and Silas is sitting beside Heath on the landing of the stairs, gently applying cold cloths to his very swollen left eye. Heath appears to be asleep or unconscious though he still has a death grip around the handle of Tilson's shiny colt.

The three men slow their pace as Red rises from his chair and quietly makes his way over to his bosses.

"I didn't want to leave him unprotected but the boy wouldn't let anyone but Silas near him. He just fell asleep. The kid has got to be hurting something fierce," Red says at almost a whisper.

"Yeah, Scotty told us," Nick absently replies as he watches Silas applying a new cold cloth on Heath's bruised face. "Listen we're going to get him settled and then we want to know exactly what happened and how."

"Sure thing boss. Since you're here I am going to go check on Billy. We moved him over to the infirmary. The shot went straight through but he lost a lot of blood."

"Thanks, Red." Nick pats Red on the shoulder. "Tommy is getting the doc. He should be here soon."

"We'll watch for him." Red taps Colb on the shoulder signaling for him to leave and give the brothers some privacy.

Moving over to where Heath is propped up against the wall on the landing, Jarrod and Nick kneel down on the bottom three stairs as Gene remains standing behind them. Again they are struck by how young he looks, how young he is. The prominent bruises look even more gruesome up close and the short shallow breaths and slight wheeze alert them to the fact that the once cracked ribs are more than likely broken. They each feel a surge of rage and grief at what their new brother suffered at the hands of criminals when he was supposed to be being guarded by their men.

"Heath," Gene calls out hoping their growing bond will help to ease him back awake.

Instead, Heath startles and immediately raising the gun in protection, his eyes a mixture of fear and confusion.

"Woah, boy. It's just us, your brothers." Nick pushes the gun away from them but doesn't try to remove it from Heath's hand.

"Brothers?" Heath scoffs weakly, the doubt clear in his expressive eyes.

"Yeah, Heath, brothers." Gene leans over and puts his hand out. "You want to give me that gun?"

"Your safe now." Jarrod tries to sound reassuring and gently pats Heath on the leg.

"Safe?" Heath's eyes dart from one man to the next. He laughs and then winces at the pain the action causes him. "I'm a bastard... Never safe." He leans his head back and closes his eyes, lowering the gun but still holding it tightly in his hand.

"NOW WAIT A MINUTE!" Nick's voice tinges on the verge of explosion, startling Heath once more. "I don't want to hear you call yourself that. That's not what you are. You're our brother and a Barkley. You hear me?" Nick pauses waiting for Heath to respond.

"Ya mean it?" Heath whispers, failing to hide the mistrust in his voice caused by years of betrayal and rejection. Heath looks up at the men once more, the ever-present doubt still clear in his eyes but a hint of hope seems to be etching its way in as he wants nothing more than to believe them.

"Yes, we mean it, Brother Heath," Jarrod answers for the group.

Stealing off the wave of emotion Nick's outburst caused, Heath gives his brothers a small nod of acceptance as he places Tilson's gun in Gene's hand.

"Good," Nick smiles and grabs onto Heath's left hand, giving it a gentle squeeze he continues, "Now, we are going to figure out what is going on and how those men got in and until then one of your brothers," he waves his hand around at the three of them, "is going to be here with you. Now, let's get you upstairs and see what kind of damages those jackals did to you."


	29. Chapter 29

"Silas, would you please run up and get Heath's room ready?" Jarrod glances over to Silas who has been silently watching the scene unfold amongst the brothers.

"Sure thing, Mr. Jarrod."

A large smile spreads across his face, as he gently pats Heath on the cheek before rising to leave. The scene he had just witnessed fills him with a sense of ease. He has been so worried about that boy but now, with his brothers accepting him and knowing that the Barkleys were good men, he felt the tension in his heart release. _That boy is going to be just fine,_ he thought as he climbed the back stairs and headed toward Heath's room.

Carefully sliding his arm behind his injured brother, Nick gently begins to help Heath rise to his feet. The stifled moan, the closed eyes, and the tense muscles are not missed by the three men as they watch Heath work to get his feet underneath him. Quickly snaking around on the other side, Gene gently adds his support hoping to lessen the strain on his injured sibling. Turning slightly on the landing so they are facing the back stairs, the three linked shoulder to shoulder pause for a moment to let Heath catch his breath.

Head bowed Heath waits out the wave of dizziness that threatens to send him back down onto the ground as he takes slow deliberate breaths in an attempt to regulate his painful breathing. Knowing he is leaning more on the two men beside him than he would like, he shifts his weight back onto his left side in an attempt to take some of the pressure off of his throbbing wound. The movement sends a furious flare of scorching pain rippling through his broken ribs eradicating his fragile reserve and causing his knees to buckle.

Caught off guard by the sudden descent of their burden, Nick and Gene quickly solidify their foundation swiftly catching the falling man. Without thought, Nick reaches down and gently lifts Heath into his arms and before the boy can so much as complain he starts up the stairs followed by Jarrod and Gene, toward the small room adjacent to his own.

The death glare burning rabidly in the light blues eyes as Nick gently sets Heath down on his bed sends waves of stunted laughter through Jarrod and Gene who immediately head over to sit on either side of their youngest brother. Gene shifts slightly behind the young man and gently places a hand on Heath's back helping to support him as Nick, seemingly oblivious to the anger being spewed at him, bends down to carefully remove Heath's boots before looking up and meeting the icy blues staring back at him.

"WHAT?" Nick yells, noticing the barely contained laughter waiting to burst forth from Jarrod and Gene.

"I ain't-a baby, Nick!" Heath yells back, shocking Jarrod and Gene who have never heard him yell before, "I could've walked," he falters taking in a painful breath, "just needed a minute is all!"

"Wha… I… you…" Nick takes a step back and turns away from them raising a fist in the air in frustration. Using the same hand to swipe his fingers through his hair he takes in a deep breath, places his hands on his hips, and then turns back around to face them.

Seeing the confusion playing out on Nick's face, Jarrod rises from the bed and walks over to give Nick's shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling up a chair and setting it in front of Heath. Reaching over, he places a hand on Heath's knee and watches as suspicious eyes follow each of his movements. Jarrod leans in and takes a good look at the young man before him. Behind the new bruises that are so vivid on Heath's pale skin, he notices the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the hollow cheeks, the gaunt frame, and the fact that Heath is leaning more and more on Gene.

"Heath," Jarrod pauses waiting for Heath to acknowledge him. "Nick was only trying to help you. You're obviously hurting."

He pauses again, blue eyes connecting with shame-filled azure eyes causing Jarrod's breath to catch. _Of course._ In the almost two months that Heath has been living with them, it dawns on Jarrod that he has only ever asked for one thing and that was only when prompted. Even injured, unable to get out of bed, he has never asked for help and usually at least attempts to do things on his own. _He's not used to having anyone to lean on._

"It's what brothers do. We help each other, protect each other, and even occasionally find time to go off and have some fun."

"Yeah Heath, you'll see. When this is all over, we can go up to the lodge and do some hunting and fishing." Gene smiles at him, reaches up, and messes up his hair. He notices Heath's eyes are glued to Nick who is standing thoughtfully behind Jarrod meeting Heath's gaze.

"Look, Heath, it's what I would have done for Gene or Jarrod. Well, if Jarrod still worked on the range and lost a few pounds." He lightly punches Jarrod in the arm and in turn, Jarrod looks playfully offended. The small lopsided grin on the pained face sets them all at ease.

"Sorry, Jim and Frank are always telling me not to be so stubborn."

"Well, I'd say you come by it naturally. It is definitely a Barkley trait and I can only imagine how stubborn your mother must have been to be strong enough to raise you on her own."

Jarrod meets his eyes which instantly fill with tears at the unsolicited compliment to his mother. Giving Heath's knee a slight squeeze, he allows the boy to collect himself before he continues.

"You know Heath if you ever want to talk about your mother or your aunt Rachel, you've got three brothers and a little sister who would be happy to listen. You don't have to grieve alone."

Heath nods, though he is not sure he will ever feel comfortable enough to share his past with these men. The offer overwhelms him all the same and the brothers watch as a few tears escape their captor.

"Now," Jarrod leans in toward Heath and quickly changes the subject, "let's take a look at what they did to you and get this bloody shirt off you." He starts to unbutton Heath's shirt.

"Why?" Heath utters breathlessly.

"Why?" Jarrod gives the blonde a confused look only to see a look of desperation looking back at him. "I thought you would be more comfortable cleaned up before Howard gets here."

"No... I mean why… why now?" Heath closes his eyes as he takes in another slow breath, "I've been here for… for almost two months... and… and it wasn't until about a week ago that… that ya'll even talked to me," he stops and lays his head on Gene's shoulder, eyes closed. The three brothers exchange worried looks before Heath continues, "Why… why do you want to be brothers... now?"

Jarrod's hands stop working their way down the buttons on Heath's shirt as he leans back in his chair and instead places them on his knees. The desperate look he has seen in Heath's eyes, tells them all how much he needs them to answer this question. It tells them all how much he wants to believe they really want to be his brother. He looks up at Nick and Gene before he tries to answer their new brother.

"Well, **Brother** Heath, if you can believe it, about a week ago," he pauses, _Had it really only been five or six days since Heath was shot?_ "our rather loud brother here pointed out to us do-gooders that while we had accepted you into our home we had not made any effort to make you feel welcome. After that, we all agreed we needed to spend more time with you, especially since there is no doubt in any of our minds that you are Father's son, our brother."

Heath glances around at all of them and then settles on Nick, who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

"It's true, Heath," Gene chimes in, "Not only do you look like him, you walk like him and laugh like him."

"Sorry," Heath mutters. He glances back up at Nick, who breaks his gaze and instead looks down at his own boots.

"Don't be. It's kind of nice. Like small reminders of happy memories we may have forgotten."

They all watch as Heath's eyes close and he leans further into Gene as he begins to lose the battle with his own exhaustion. Quietly, Jarrod again starts unbuttoning the ruined shirt and then carefully slides the shirt off as Nick quickly walks around the bed to prop up some additional pillows for Gene to lean Heath up against. As he makes his way back from around the bed, Nick's eyes involuntarily shift to the mutilated skin where only smooth young tan muscles should be and that protective rage he felt for Gene fills him with a desire to tear this boy's uncle apart with his bare hands.

As they lay him down against the stack of pillows, the three brothers stare not only at the dark purple and black hues that adorn the boy's chest but also at the toll the last week has had on him. Through his slender frame, the sight of his ribs clearly defined under a thin layer of skin show the extent of weight loss in just the last few days and cause each brother to vow to make sure the boy eats more.

Lifting the bandage off the partially healed bullet wound, Jarrod notices that while it does look a little inflamed it is not bleeding again and so he decides it is best to leave that for the doctor. So instead, he reaches over and grabs a cool cloth Silas had left and gently lays it on Heath's swollen eye hoping to help ease the swelling while Nick and Gene carefully change the now sleeping young man back into sleeping pants.

With their ministrations done, the three men pull up seats around the bed, watching the rhythmic motion in the rise and fall of their youngest brother's chest. Yes, they will all wait here watching over their baby brother, protecting him as he sleeps, until the doctor comes.


	30. Chapter 30

Sitting around a small table, the three men cast quick glances at each other as they wait for Tommy, who has just arrived back at the ranch with Dr. Merar, to return from settling his horse. Since it is the middle of the day and most men are out on the range, the three men decide to set up a small table and chairs in the corner of the bunkhouse in order to give them a bit of privacy as they interview the men involved in today's incident. The three have already spoken with Scotty and Red, who both gave similar accounts to the scene they encountered when they first ran into the house after hearing gunshots.

" _Ain't seen nothing like it, one man dead on the stairs with a knife to his heart and another dead on the floor gunshot wound right between the eyes. Billy was laying on the kitchen floor holding on to his wounded shoulder and Heath was sprawled out on the landing, eyes barely open but gun at the ready."_

Red was also able to share with them the account Billy had given just before he finally succumbed to blood loss and fell into a fitful sleep.

" _So, Billy was awake when you first got there?" Fred places his notebook on the table with his pencil in hand, he leans forward giving Red his undivided attention._

" _Yeah, we got him patched up and moved over to the infirmary fast as we could. Heath wouldn't let us anywhere near him." Red's eyes shift to Jim and Alpha and apologetically he continues, "Not that we blame him."_

" _Did Billy say anything?" Fred's voice draws Red back to over to him. "Like, why he was there and not out working with the other men?"_

" _Oh, that's cuz of Nick." Again his eyes shift nervously to Jim and Alpha, he had heard that these two were good friends of Heath. "He's been having him stay back on account of what happened with his brother and all. He said he was hoping to talk to Heath. To apologize to him and see if he would let him stay on."_

" _I take it he didn't get further than the kitchen?" Jim chimes in, his tone direct and even. He wanted this man to be wary of him because he wants the truth._

" _Ah, nope." Red's eyes move from Jim to Fred, finding more comfort in the man he knows. "He said he walked in and those two men were forcing Heath down the stairs and that Heath was all beat up. He went for his gun but was no match for how fast they were." He turns back to Jim and to Alpha, who can now hear the pride in his voice._

" _He said Heath hit the guy on the stairs making his shot miss and then faster than all get out pulled a knife from his boot and stabbed him. Then the other guy went to shoot and Heath jumped him. Hurt and all just jump right on him. That shot hit him in the shoulder but would've pierced his heart if it weren't for Heath. That boy saved his life."_

" _Yep, that sounds like Heath alright." Alpha mumbles, shaking his head smiling._

The sound of the bunkhouse door opening draws them out of their contemplations as they see both Jarrod and Tommy walk in from the outside. Jarrod takes the lead heading directly over to the group while Tommy slowly follows behind him. The two experienced lawmen settle their eyes on Tommy who is staring at his shuffling feet and constantly rubbing his hands together. These nervous gestures let them both know that this man is struggling with some blame in the events of today. Now, whether that blame is self-imposed or justified is what Fred and Jim hope to discover.

Reaching the table, Jarrod places his hands on the back of a chair as his lawyer instincts want to do nothing other than plop down in a chair and listen to each man's testimony. The mystery of the connection between Heath's relatives, George Tyrone, Phil Archer, and now the Dowlins is just swirling around at the nape of his neck, begging him to solve it. What happened today is just one more misshapen piece of this extensive puzzle. It is so hard for Jarrod to refrain from bearing witness to the accounts as they are told to garner not only the words but also what will be revealed in each man's demeanor.

Taking a deep breath, he buries his own curiosity knowing that Fred and Jim will fill him in on the details once all the accounts are recorded. These are men he trusts. Fred, he has known him for years, his integrity and commitment to his job and the community is apparent in everything he does. Jim carries the same type of honor to his duty, plus he can tell he would do anything to stop what is happening to Heath. Giving a slight squeeze to the back of the chair, he chooses instead to focus on his commitment to his new brother, as he, Nick, and Gene all plan to be there when Howard examines him.

"Jim, Alpha," Jarrod greets each man and then nods to Fred, "I just wanted to come down and give you an update on Heath. He took a beating, one he did not need, but I think overall he will be fine with some rest. In fact, he insisted that Howard tend to Billy first and was asleep when I left."

This causes both Jim and Alpha to laugh. Exchanging a confused look with Fred, Jarrod turns back toward the other two men.

"What?"

"Heath could have one foot in death's door and still insist he is fine." Alpha laughs and Jim joins him, as Jarrod looks between the two trying to see if they are serious. "He has tells, same as anyone, you just have to look for them."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks for the heads up." Jarrod returns their warm smiles.

"And thank you, Jarrod." Jim could feel the tension leaving him as his worry over Heath faded with Jarrod's announcement. "We appreciate you coming out to let us know. We were both worried about the boy."

For his part, Jarrod had not missed how the pair held back when they arrived at the ranch allowing the three brothers to go in and begin the process of bonding with their new sibling.

"Of course, I knew you both would be worried." Jarrod releases his grip on the back of the chair and stands a little taller. "I'm going to head back inside. Colb and Snyder are waiting outside and Red is trying to track down Barrett."

"Don't worry, Jarrod," Fred almost laughs at the torn look in Jarrod's eye. "As soon as we are done and everything is good with Heath we'll be inside to bring you up to speed."

"Thanks, Fred." Jarrod turns to leave, then abruptly turns toward Tommy who has been standing nervously off to the side, "Tommy, did you see my mother and sister heading this way? I would have thought they would be here by now."

"Ah, No sir, Jarrod, but I had to ride out to the Miles ranch to grab the doc so I don't think I would have seen them."

"Thanks, Tommy," Jarrod frowns.

"Something wrong, Jarrod?" Fred rises.

"I'm not sure. I would have thought they would be back by now." Jarrod tries to shake the uneasy feeling that has started to form. "Not to worry, Fred, I'll send one of the men out to meet them."

And with that, he turns and heads out the bunkhouse door.

* * *

The heat pounding down on his back only fuels the flames of hatred burning steadily through every aspect of his being, as he carefully maneuvers his horse through the rugged terrain. He'd chosen this path specifically to help hide his quick departure from the ranch. He knew, after seeing the way the Barkleys rode up and how Nick jumped down ready to tear into the first man he came across, something had changed and there was no way they would allow him to stay after what he did to help those men get to that scum. So at his first chance, he quickly grabbed his gear and rode out of there before the sheriff could follow.

Stopping for a moment to take a swig of water out of his canteen, he glances up towards the heavens and dreams about all the sordid forms of torture he'd like to inflict on that no good, lower than life, money hungry mongrel that has now cost him everything he has worked so hard for. He has been with the Barkleys for the last three years and thought he had finally found a place to settle into. Of course, that was before the bastard showed up and ruined everything. As soon as he staked his claim, he knew it was only a matter of time before they would find out about him and throw him off the ranch. Damn bastard!

He places his canteen back on the side of his saddle and with a gentle nudge with his knees, he encourages his horse to move forward. He doesn't really care where he ends up. He just knows he needs to get as far out of Stockton as possible before the Barkleys realize he is missing. He knows the reach of the Barkleys is vast but he figures they will have more important things to worry about than where he ran off to. Especially, with all the trouble still headed their way.

With his horse keeping a steady speed, Barrett focuses his attention back to the road ahead as he sits up a little straighter and tries to remain vigilant. He knows better than to allow his thoughts to continue to wander, he is not ignorant of the dangers one faces when traveling alone through most of this territory. _Getting soft, been a while since I was on my own._ Scanning the path and up into the trees, he notices an unnatural shadow off in the distance, so he slowly reaches over and removes his pistol from its holster. As he moves closer the shadow solidifies and he raises his gun wanting to make sure he is prepared.

"State your business or be on your way," Barrett yells, not wanting any more trouble.

The shadow moves and out from the brush steps a man with two empty hands in the air.

"You!" Barrett raises his gun and points it directly at the man, "what do you want?"

"And here I thought we were friends," Jed takes a step forward, keeping his hands raised. "And seeing how I'm down two friends at the moment and you seem to be friendless, I thought maybe we could help each other."

"How you figure?" He keeps his gun steady, knowing this man is a ruthless killer.

"Well, I still gotta get that bastard over to some friends and I thought maybe you may still like to help me," his large insane smile takes over the majority of his face.

Barrett can't help but smile back at him.


	31. Chapter 31

Tommy shifts uneasily under the three pairs of scowling eyes watching his every move. He has been answering their questions for the last thirty minutes and even though he really feels like there is nothing more he can tell them they keep coming up with more things that need answering. He knows that it's his fault those men got into the house and that he failed to fulfill his duty this afternoon. He is sure that Nick is madder than a wet hornet but in all honesty, he was fooled by a man he thought was his friend. His negligence has nothing to do with Heath and he feels terrible about what happened. The image of Billy laying bleeding on the floor and Heath bruised and bloody on the landing, is not something he will soon forget. Still, sitting here he realizes that there is nothing he can say or do to shift their accusing eyes off of him. So, instead, he looks down at the hands in his lap and waits for the sheriff to arrest him.

"Alright, you can go," Fred says as he stands up and stretches his legs. They had been at this for a while and they still had multiple witnesses to talk to. He looks down at Tommy who is nervously rising from the chair, in a tone that leaves no room for misunderstanding, he adds, "Just don't go far."

Tommy jumps up and nods to the sheriff, the relief evident as he lets out a long exhale.

"You mean, I'm not in trouble?" Tommy asks before he dares to take a step toward the door.

"Not with the law," Fred confirms, "now what's going to happen with Nick Barkley, that's a whole different story."

Tommy takes a loud swallow as sweat begins to bead on his forehead. He stands frozen in place as he thinks about the loud confrontation he is sure to have once the doctor is done looking over Heath. Maybe jail would be better? He nods at the three men and starts to head out toward the door but stops short when he hears Fred call to him.

"Send in Colb, next. Will ya?"

"Sure thing, Sheriff," he calls back, as he reaches for the doorknob and escapes out into the fresh air.

Setting back down into the chair he just vacated, Fred looks over to the two men helping him with the investigation. They were good men, he liked them both. He especially liked having another sheriff around who knew the law and how to look beyond the surface of a situation to find the truth. With so many moving piecing of this god awful puzzle, it was nice to have the additional resources to help sort through all the pieces. Right now, he couldn't for the life of him figure out how it all fit together.

Some of the pieces were starting to take shape and slide neatly into each other forming one corner of the complete picture. Archer, the order, Judge Tyrone, and poor Molly (if that is who is locked up in Ophir) were forming the first connecting pieces, but who had killed Archer, the judge, and this Dr. Tilden is a complete mystery. Which leads to the next pieces, Heath and his awful relatives. How do they fit into the puzzle? What part of the picture do they belong in? Fred leans back in his chair and rubs his hand over his face. It has already been a very long day and the day is barely over.

"Well, any thoughts," he asks, as he looks over to his companions.

Jim leans forward and places his elbows on the table in front of him. His mind keeps shifting back to Heath and how he is holding up surrounded by his new brothers. He is thankful to Jarrod for coming down and letting them know how he was doing but he really won't feel secure in the knowledge that the boy is going to be okay until he sees him with his own two eyes. Still, this is work that needs to be done. Every piece of evidence is taking them one step closer to figuring out who all the players are and who has orchestrated this mess and why.

"He seems like a good kid. Just trusted the wrong people."

'Yeah, I agree. Hope Nick ain't too hard on him. I know he needs the work."

The sound of the door closing draws their attention over to the two men who are slowly making their way across the room toward them. Fred, who has on many occasions housed these two, along with their good friend Barrett, in one of his deluxe cells after they spent a night drinking, gambling, and destroying property, is very familiar with the cowardness they usually show. Colb likes to stick with _I didn't do nothing defense_ , while Snyder seems to gravitate toward _he started it_. Either way, they both seem to always be trying to lie their way out of one scheme or another.

Taking a deep breath, Fred gently turns and stretches the kinks out of his back in an effort to stop himself from taking out his growing frustration at this complicated case on two men now standing right in front of them. Looking over to Jim and Alpha, he can tell by the looks on their faces that they have already sized up the integrity of the two and that there is no way their normal antics are going to work in this room. That thought brings a smile to his face.

"I only asked for Colb, not both of you. Snyder, you can go on and wait outside till we call you," Fred takes the lead as he has been doing all afternoon. He knows it is a show of respect that Jim remains second and he appreciates it.

"Uh...yeah Tommy told us," Colb shyly responds with Snyder still standing by his side. He is having a hard time looking Fred in the eye and doesn't even dare to look at the other two guys in the room. He inhales deeply before he continues "It's just that… well, see, we got something to tell you that we need to say together and then we'll be happy to be questioned separately."

"Is that so?" Fred leans toward them and rests his elbows on the table. He catches Colb's eye and sees a level of sincerity in them he has never seen before. "Alright, go on. What do you need to tell us?"

"Well," Colb pauses, he has never done this before. He feels the panic setting in, his hands feel sweaty and he can feel his heart pounding. He looks over at Snyder who is standing a little taller and holding his gaze directly at the lawmen in front of them. Snyder glances at him through the corner of his eye and gives a small nod of encouragement for him to continue. He nods back and then continues, "Well, it's like this, see, it's our fault those men got in."

"You admit this?" Fred interrupts casting a questioning eye at Jim and Alpha.

"Yes, sir," Snyder answers, he remains steadfast, "Now, we didn't know they was killers. We just thought they were gonna rough up the boy and send him packing."

"And why would you do this?"

"Well, ain't no secret that Nick's been sending the boy out with us and we've been trying to convince him to leave. Thought Nick would thank us for running him off."

Jim can't help but chuckle, no one could run Heath off if he didn't plan to leave.

"But, Barrett, he especially hated the boy, so when Jed came up to us saying he could run the... Uh, Heath, off, Barrett volunteered us to do it," Snyder pauses for a moment then continues, his voice barely above a whisper, "not that it took much convincing."

Fred gets out of his chair and walks over to stand directly in front of the two men. He gives them both a once over as he tries to determine what kind of game they are playing.

"You know, you could go to jail for this. You just admitted to being an accessory in an attempting kidnapping and more likely attempted murder."

"Yes, sir," they both answer in unison.

"And you're okay with that?"

"It ain't something we're looking forward to but after what that boy...what Heath... did for Billy, even after Billy almost got him killed with that snake and all, well, we figure being honest is the least we can do."

Fred stares at the two men and is floored by this new level of decency they are displaying. He turns toward Jim and Alpha who are sitting there with knowing smiles.

"Yeah, he sometimes has that effect on people," Jim answers Fred's unasked question, while Alpha just laughs.

Fred turns back to Colb and Snyder, "Alright then tell us everything."

* * *

"Well, young man," the doctor's kind voice breaks through the hazy veil of grey that is currently trying to lure Heath back into a restless sleep. Pausing in his ministrations, Dr. Merar watches as small blue slits shift toward his voice, so he continues, "Three times in one week, I'd say that's a record. You're well on your way to beating Nick for my most frequent patient."

Heath's confused orbs dart between the doctor and Nick, who is sitting across from him on the bed, ready to assist if needed. He swallows hard and with a raspy voice barely above a whisper, he quips, "That's one record Nick can keep."

He flashes them a small smile before fully relaxing back into the soft pillow and allowing his eyes close once more. He hears Nick's deep laugh and feels a hand lightly squeeze his shoulder before he allows his exhaustion to once again pull him back into the dark abyss.

"Oh, no you don't," Dr. Merar gently scolds as he slowly lifts Heath's head and places a glass to his lips, "Here take a sip a for me. I need you to wake up while I finish examining you."

The scowl that adorns the young face is befitting of a boy his age but so uncharacteristic of the normally stoic young man, that both Dr. Merar and Nick can't help but smile.

"Come'on, Heath," Nick gently encourages with a small shake of Heath's shoulder, "Doc needs to ask you a couple of questions and check out those baby blues."

Forcing his weighted lids to obey his commands, he again opens them to small slits as the swelling around his left eye doesn't allow for that one to open much wider. Trying to focus on the room around him, he sees not only the doctor smiling down at him but also Jarrod and Gene standing behind him watching his every move. They are still there with him, just as they said they would be. He turns his head to look at Nick as he feels strong hands helping him to sit up further on the pillow. The action sends a renewed wave of pain through his battered body and his breath catches as he is settled once again in the fluffy mound of feathered pillows.

"Well, I have some good news, Heath," Dr. Merar starts, then pauses as he waits for Heath to turn his head and look at him, "Your ribs are not broken, just still cracked and it is going to take some additional time for them to heal."

He pauses again until he sees Heath nod his head and then he continues, "The bullet wound is a little inflamed and red, but you're not running a fever so I believe that no additional damage has been done. Still, I am going to keep an eye on it over the next few days."

He pauses again making sure to give Heath a chance to ask questions, when none are forthcoming he continues, "Overall, I'd say you were pretty lucky considering what I have been told happened here today. Now let me take a look at that eye and then I will let you go back to sleep, which is exactly what your body needs at the moment."

Dr. Merar picks up the lamp beside the bed and turns up the wick causing the flame to expand and brighten. He begins moving the light slowly in front of Heath's left eye closely watching how the pupil reacts to the light. Heath lies perfectly still as the doctor works through his examination, with only the white-knuckle grip he has on the blanket covering his legs letting his brothers know of his extreme discomfort. After only a few minutes the doctor sets the lamp back down on the nightstand and with a gentle pat on Heath's left shoulder he rises from the chair and begins packing his tools back inside his bag.

"The eye will be fine," he smiles down at Heath and then turns to face his brothers, "I want him on complete bed rest ONLY getting up to use the necessary for the next three days. Then he can resume moving about the house, with help. And," he turns back toward Heath, "I want you to start eating better, three square meals a day, got it?"

Heath nods but then quickly looks away unable to hold the doctor's gaze. He has always had a hard time eating when he is stressed and given his past it is easy for him to go without.

"Oh, we'll make sure of it doc! Don't you worry, we plan on fattening this boy up!" Nick teases, "Can't have him working on a ranch without some muscles on him!" Nick proudly proclaims with Jarrod and Gene just laughing in agreement. Nick is in full protector mode and they know Heath doesn't stand a chance.


	32. Chapter 32

A cool breeze gently swirls around the three passengers as they silently ride in the open carriage toward the outskirts of the city. The crisp air is a welcomed reprieve from the stagnant heat that prevailed over their two-hour train ride north from the station in Stockton to the platform in Sacramento. It is a trip the Dowlins took without hesitation as their newly revived hope brought them to the edge of desperation and they could not arrive fast enough to the archaic walls that for the last three years has trapped their heart deep inside. For that is what their oldest daughter was to them, she was the heart of their family.

With each passing mile, the Dowlins stare dreamily ahead as they are far past rationalization and can only think of the reunion that is to come with their once-dead daughter who they wholeheartedly believe is alive and waiting for them to find her. Now that they have set themselves upon this path and opened their hearts to the possibility of this long overdue reunion, they have shunned all doubts. They are simply embracing their exhilaration that Molly is alive and in only a few minutes they will finally hold her in their arms. Even the sharp edges of guilt, from them not recognizing or somehow knowing that their little girl was out there, is being easily cast aside, for nothing will diminish their spirits.

Glancing over at the Dowlins, Frank can see the nervous anticipation in the shaking of Mrs. Dowlin's legs and the tight grip they have on each other's hands. He feels the weight of his decision to present this girl to them with the possibility that she is nothing more than an unhinged patient using his own desire to find a connection to Martha Simmons against him. He is not above the vulnerability that comes with caring for someone and Heath is like a son to him. He knows he will do anything to protect that boy. He just hopes he has not allowed his desires to cloud his instincts and inadvertently given hope where none should exist.

Frank gently nudges the horses forward causing them to pick up their pace as they come upon the driveway that will take them to the front doors of Ophir. Before leaving Stockton, Frank made arrangements for a judge to be available knowing that if his hunch proves correct there is no way that the Dowlins will be willing to leave Molly's side and without a court order she will not be allowed to leave the premises. He also sent for two deputy marshals to be present when they arrive, for again if he is correct, this girl is definitely in danger from whoever killed Judge Tyrone, Dr. Tilden, and Phil Archer.

Thinking of the two deputies, he absently reaches up and rubs his front breast pocket, feeling the telegram that was given to him upon their arrival. He had asked the deputies to make a quick stop off at the Central Bank to investigate Dr. Tilden's deposits around the time the girl was committed. The telegram confirmed his suspicions that indeed a large one time deposit was made by Dr. Tilden on that very same day. He has no way to prove where the money had come from but in his experience, one plus one generally equals two.

As the front doors of the large Victorian building come into view, Frank takes note of the buggy and horses tied outside letting him know the other members of their party have arrived. Pulling up to the front, he brings the carriage to a halt and jumps down to quickly tie off the reins before walking over to the right side of the buggy to offer his hand to Mrs. Dowlin. Without taking her eyes off the building before her, she accepts his hand and climbs down followed quickly by Mr. Dowlin. Frank watches as the couple slowly make their way to the doors and once again he sends a silent pray upwards that he is making the right decision.

* * *

"Alright, boy...uh Heath," Nick quickly corrects seeing the sudden flare the word boy causes in Heath's eyes. _With those eyes, he really doesn't need to talk much._ "Feel up to some lunch before you fall back to sleep? You heard the Doc, you need to eat more."

Heath's eyes shift from one brother to the other as they both lean slightly forward waiting for his response. He certainly is not used to this much attention, and while he believes they are being sincere in their decision to accept him, is still unsure about how he is supposed to act. Taking a small breath, he reaches up with his left hand and runs his fingers through his thick hair before he begins massaging his temples to relieve the pounding behind his now-closed eyes. He really just wants to sleep but knows he should make an effort to eat, after all, he did promise the doctor he would try.

"Is your headache bad? I can get you some headache powder," Gene offers, placing his hand on Heath's shoulder.

"I'm alright," Heath says as he lowers his hand back down to the bed and looks up at the two men, "I guess I could try to eat a little," he finishes, causing both his brothers to smile.

Nick and Gene exchange glances and Heath's observant eyes do not miss the silent conversation happening between them. After a few more seconds, Gene rises from his chair and with a gentle pat on Heath's legs follows the path through the door that Jarrod and Dr. Merar had taken just moments ago.

"He's gonna go get you a tray of food from Silas and check with Jarrod to see how Billy is doing," Nick says as he gets up from the bed and makes his way over to the chair Gene just vacated. Sitting back in the chair, Nick's eyes shift to the bible on the nightstand and then back to his brother who is watching his every move with a look of apprehension.

"Ya got something ya want to tell me, Nick?" Heath is no fool, he can see the warring emotions battling behind Nick's stormy hazel eyes.

Nick takes in a deep breath and grips the arms of the chair before leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. Resting his chin on his hands, he looks over to his new little brother that somehow in the course of the last few days has wandered into his heart and taken his place amongst the rest of the family.

"Yeah, I do," Nick calmly replies as he once again leans back in the chair and runs his hand through his hair. He looks up at Heath and takes in his stiff posture, his quick breath, and his tight jaw. It just confirms his suspicion that it is going to take a lot of work for this boy to trust any of them. _What has your life been like, that you are always prepared to be disappointed?_

"Go on just say it," Heath's voice doesn't hide his anger, he knows what to expect from people.

"Hey now, little brother. There ain't no reason to get all riled up. I meant what I said this morning about us starting over."

Nick scoots forward in the chair and takes a hold of Heath's forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn't miss the small glimmer in Heath's eyes that the words 'little brother' cause. He thinks over what they know of Heath so far; he wasn't allowed in school, his uncle abused him, he's been working since he was six years old, he was in the war, and was a deputy for the respected Frank Sawyer. It seems this boy had lived a few lifetimes in his short life and with all the rejection and pain it makes sense he would have a hard time trusting those around him.

Without releasing his hold on Heath's arm, he watches as he once again relaxes back into the pillows.

"So, what do ya want to talk about then," Heath asks.

Nick takes in a deep breath, knowing the only way for them to build trust is to lay a foundation built on honesty. "You asked why, why now are we sure about being brothers, and… well, for me… I… uh…. I saw the picture and the letter your mother wrote to our father."

"You went through my stuff!" Heath yells and tries to sit up only for his efforts to be thwarted by pain and weakness. With clenched fists he curses his body and falls back down onto the pillows, breathing heavily. "You had no right!"

Nick had expected Heath to be angry over the fact that he read the letter without his permission, but he didn't expect to see a look of betrayal and defeat on his face. That look in Heath's eyes coupled with the knowledge that he is the cause rips at his soul and fills him with an insurmountable determination to fix it. It is a familiar feeling and one that he has experienced many times in the past when he has disappointed Jarrod or Gene. This realization ignites his brotherly instincts and he quickly rises from the chair and sits down on the bed beside Heath.

"Dammit Heath, I didn't go through your stuff. I went to hand Jim your bible and it fell out. When I saw the picture and then the name on the envelope. I dunno, I read it and I know I shouldn't have, but I did!"

"It was my letter and my choice whether or not to share that with you, you had no right to read it!" Heath seethes.

"You're right, I didn't but I'm glad I did! This whole time I was angry at you for coming here, for making your claim and ruining my father's good name. But the truth is, I was angry because I didn't want to believe what I was feeling inside. That you are my brother. Seeing that picture and reading that letter made me face the truth. I needed that."

Heath softens slightly as he sees the sincerity in Nick's eyes and he wonders what he might have done had he been the one in Nick's shoes. He knows Nick has been warring within himself, trying to decide between protecting the image of his father or accepting a new brother who represents a fault in the man he loved. Heath knows the hard evidence of a photo showing him the blatant truth might have been just what he would have needed to settle the battle. This, of course, could also just be Heath's way of justifying forgiving Nick for invading his privacy because he wants so desperately to belong within the walls of this home. He wants so desperately to believe that he is not alone, that he has a place to come back to each night, and people who will care about him.

"Look, Heath, I'm sorry."

Heath just nods. He is so tired. So tired of fighting, of trying to survive, of being lied to and used. He wants to take a chance even if it means he will later regret it, for now, he wants to believe.

"All you had to do was ask and I would've shown it to you."

"I promise, Heath, from now on anything I want to know about you I will ask you directly. Ok?" Nick holds out his hand to Heath, who looks down at the hand and then up at Nick who is smiling. Throwing Nick a quick grin of his own, Heath takes Nick's offered hand and shakes it.

"So, what's the story with this toy horse?"

* * *

"Howard, is there anything else we should know about Heath's condition?" Jarrod asks as the pair walks side-by-side down the grand staircase toward the front door.

"No, Jarrod, nothing more than what I said upstairs." Dr. Merar looks over to Jarrod and sees the genuine concern in his eyes. "If you can stop people from attacking him that would be good," he jokes causing Jarrod to smile.

"It takes time to recover from not only being shot but blood loss and with all that has happened since then, well, it's going to be a while before he gets back on his feet. But with rest and all the good food, I know Silas will fix for him, he should be fine." Dr. Merar gently pats Jarrod on the arm as they reach the front door.

"And Billy? How's he doing?"

"Bullet went straight through, he lost a good amount of blood but with rest, he should be fine. I spoke with Red about cleaning the wound and will show Billy some exercises he can do in about a week to help him start regaining strength in that arm. You should let Nick know, he won't be working for a while."

"Thank you, Howard, we appreciate all you have done for both of them." Jarrod opens the front door, as the two men step out onto the porch to the thundering sound of a galloping horse fast approaching.

Seeing the horse riding in, Scotty and Willy run over from their assigned stations, guns drawn and ready.

"It's Eli Mr. Barkley and he has someone on the horse with him," Scotty yells back to Jarrod who is now moving out to greet the approaching rider.

Jarrod picks up the pace as he recognizes the unconscious form of Buddy Tyrone only staying upright on the horse from the tight grip of Eli's arm. He glances behind Eli, whom he had sent out to see what was taking his mother and Audra so long, for any sign of the pair following behind in the buggy. As the dust settles back down upon the road the empty path mocks his naivety at allowing his mother and sister to ride unaccompanied back to the ranch in light of all that has happened recently. _How could he be so foolish? Was the attempt on Heath just a ploy to get to them instead?_

"Scotty, Willy, come and help me take him inside," Jarrod yells over to the hands as Eli brings his horse to an abrupt stop. "Howard, it looks like we will once again need your services."

Scotty and Willy run over and gently ease the unconscious young man down from Eli's horse and follow the doctor inside the house.

"Eli, what happened?"

"I'm not sure Mr. Barkley. I came across Mr. Tyrone laying on the side of the road. The buggy was off to the side with a broken axle. There was no sign of Mrs. Barkley or Miss Audra, sir.


	33. Chapter 33

_Author's Note: Thank you all for patience I know my posting schedule has been a little delayed in the last few weeks! I just wanted to say thanks for understanding and thank you for reading._

* * *

The stomping sound of fast moving feet walking quickly past Heath's door, draws Nick's attention away from the question about the toy horse and out toward the hallway. As he looks up he feels a chill trickle down his spine as he sees Scotty, Fred, Jim, and Alpha walking past carrying a lifeless form between them. Jumping up from the chair beside Heath's bed, Nick runs over to the door and catches hold of Jarrod's arm as he walks with Dr. Merar, the two, following the other men.

"What's going on?" Nick questions, tightening his hold on Jarrod's arm, breaking the gaze the other man has on the figure now moving away from him.

Looking down at the hand stopping him from continuing on to the guest room, Jarrod goes to shove it off until he realizes that the hand belongs to Nick, the one brother he needs at this very moment. Stopping abruptly, he turns and looks into the concerned and confused hazel eyes, before a sound behind them causes them both to turn back toward the room. Heath, who is doing his best to sit up and move his legs off the edge of the bed, lets out a small moan as his body again revolts against any type of movement.

"BOY, what are you doing?" Nick hurries back to Heath's side, stopping him from rising off the bed. "Didn't the doc just tell you to stay in bed?"

"What's going on?" Heath asks, ignoring Nick's verbal barrage and turning straight to Jarrod.

Taking a deep breath, Jarrod looks back toward the hall where the men had just walked past and then turns back toward his brothers.

"Where's Gene?" He asks, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"He went down to get Heath some food. WHY, Jarrod? What's going on? Who was that?" Nick points toward the hall as he spews out question after question barely pausing for a breath.

"It was Buddy Tyrone," Jarrod answers, his voice flooded with worry, "Eli found him unconscious about a mile from the ranch. The buggy, with a broken axle, was off to the side of the road, empty."

"WHAT?" Nick begins pacing, his hands on his hips. "What about Mother, Audra?"

"There was no sign of them. Red is gathering up some men. As soon as I see if Buddy can tell me anything, we'll head out to search for them."

"I'm going too," Heath says defiantly, as he again tries to rise.

"No, you're not!" Jarrod and Nick say in unison. Nick stops pacing for a moment and stares at Heath in disbelief and Jarrod walks over to stand in front of Heath as Nick resumes his pacing.

"I got a right! What if it's my Aunt and Uncle? Then it's my fault and my responsibility!" Heath fumes, breathlessly.

"First of all," Jarrod begins as he takes a seat in the chair beside the bed, "we don't know who it is or what has happened. Even if it is your Aunt and Uncle, it's still not your fault. If anything it's mine."

"How ya figure?" Heath raises an eyebrow questioning Jarrod's logic.

"Remember the first telegraph, it said to cause a distraction and to use you, what if this was another distraction and I left Mother and Audra alone with only Buddy." Jarrod leans back in the chair and again rubs his hands over his face.

"I should have made sure the family had more protection," he laments.

"It's not your fault, Jarrod," Nick places a hand on Jarrod's shoulder and gives it a brotherly squeeze, "You can't blame yourself for the actions of some madman."

Heath looks on as Jarrod finds comfort in his brother's words and wonders how long it took for them to build that connection. Is it because they grew up together or is it an instant bond, and will he ever feel for his brothers the same sense of respect, love, and trust? He ponders this for a moment before shaking away the thoughts and bringing himself back to the current conversation.

"But what if it is them, my Aunt and Uncle?" Heath asks, trying to find a way to be helpful even though he knows he is in no condition to go with them, "I've never known them to go after proper folks on purpose so I don't think they would hurt them and I bet they'd be willing to make a trade, me for them."

Nick and Jarrod exchange glances, as Nick moves to sit down on the bed beside Heath. Neither brother misses how easily the word proper slips from Heath's tongue and neither doubts that there were many times in Heath's life that he was told he was not good enough to be around those born in wedlock. What is more pressing to the brothers is the obvious willingness to trade his life for those he deems more worthy, as if his own life matters so little.

"In this family," Nick begins, making sure he has the full attention of his little brother, "we don't trade one Barkley for another. GOT IT?"

"But they're ya mother and sister!"

"NO," Nick corrects, "It's OUR sister and you're OUR brother. I thought we established this earlier."

"Plus," Jarrod adds, "I think you'll find that Mother has become very fond of you and would not want us to make such a trade."

Heath gives his brothers an incredulous look but says nothing as he tries to rationalize the words his brothers spoke. _Did Mrs. Barkley really care about him? Did they really value him as much as Audra or Gene? How could that be when they don't even know him?_

"Nick, stay here, while I go see how Buddy is," Jarrod says as he rises from the chair, "Then we'll head out. Gene can stay with Heath. And you," he motions to Heath and gives him a stern look, "You lay back in that bed and rest."

Giving Jarrod a small nod, Heath turns to lay back down on the stack of pillows and is instantly helped by Nick, who gets up from beside him on the bed. Nick reaches down and easily lifts Heath's legs, placing them on to the bed, and then covers him with the comforter.

"Take Jim and Alpha," Heath calls to Jarrod, "ya won't find better trackers. If there's a trail they'll find it."

* * *

As Jarrod enters the guest room, he sees Fred, Jim, and Alpha standing off to the side watching as the doctor finishes placing a bandage over the small laceration on Buddy's forehead. He moves closer to the bed and sees brown eyes cautiously watching the hands of Doctor Merar as he methodically ties off the bandage on the side of the young man's head. Buddy winces slightly as the doctor proceeds to gently open one eye and then the other while moving the lamp in front of them.

"Well, I am not sure who hit you but they did not hit you hard enough to do much damage," Dr. Merar says, as he starts packing up his instruments, "bump on the head, couple of stitches, and a slight concussion. You'll be fine. Just rest for the rest of the day and take it easy tomorrow. I'll leave some headache powders with you, just in case."

"Thanks, Doc," Buddy groggily responds as he reaches out his hand to the doctor.

Giving Buddy's hand a firm shake, Dr. Merar then turns towards the other men.

"I'll see myself out, Jarrod," he says, with a gentle tap on Jarrod's shoulder.

"Thank you, Howard," Jarrod replies as he moves to take a seat next to Buddy. "Buddy, do you feel up to answering a few questions?"

"Of course, Jarrod," Buddy gives him a weak smile, "Anything I can do to help. Aunt Victoria is like a second mother to me."

"Did you see who took them?" Jarrod asks, hoping for any information that might help them in their search, "and where they were headed?"

Jim, Fred, and Alpha move closer to the bed so that they can hear the details of what happened directly from one of the victims.

"Sorry Jarrod, I didn't. We were heading back to the ranch. Aunt Victoria was in a hurry to return, she was worried about Heath. We heard a snapping sound and the buggy slightly tilted, so Aunt Victoria brought it to a stop. I hopped down to see what happened when we heard horses approaching when I looked up from the wheel someone hit me. Next thing I knew, I was waking up here."

Jarrod looks over his shoulder at the other men. This really didn't give them any information to help them find them and the disappointment on Jarrod's face is clear to everyone in the room.

"I wish I could be of more help," Buddy apologizes.

"It's fine Buddy, thank you for telling us. Get some rest." He pats Buddy's shoulder as he stands and motions to the other men to follow him out to the room.

"Not much to go on," Fred voices what they all are thinking.

"No, it's not," Jarrod agrees and then turns to Jim and Alpha, "Heath says you two are the best trackers and if there's a path you'll find it."

"We'll do our best, Jarrod," Jim tries to comfort the obviously worried son, "Come on, there are only a few hours of sunlight left."

* * *

A gentleman is there to greet them as soon as they walk through the front doors and into the lobby of Ophir. The man, who looks to be in his early forties, is dressed in a three-piece suit with a gold pocket watch hanging neatly from a side pocket. His impatience at having to wait, here in the lobby, is evident by the incessant tapping of his fingers against his leg. As the group walks further into the bright lobby, the man swallows hard as if trying to compose himself before he even tries to speak. From the look of him, Frank assumes he is one of the doctors here and can only smile at the lengths the superintendent must have taken when hearing of their visit. _Very different than the first time I was here. Was this for the Dowlins or the Judge?_ Frank wonders as he comes up to stand in front of the Dowlins and address the person who he assumes will take them to where the rest of their party is meeting.

"Afternoon. I'm Marshall Frank Sawyer and I'm here to see…"

"Yes, sir, my name is Dr. Roger Stancliffe," Dr. Stancliffe interrupts, "I'm one of Sissy's doctors and we have been expecting you. I have been given instructions to escort you to the superintendent's office and Mr. and Mrs. Dowlin to the family waiting room just across the hall."

"No! We want to see our daughter," Mr. Dowlin blurts out and Frank does not miss the cringe on the doctor's face. He places a calming hand on Mr. Dowlin's forearm and waits for the Dr. Stancliffe to continue.

"Of course, sir. We have been made fully aware of the circumstances surrounding your visit and as I am sure you can understand, a situation such as this needs to be handled properly. For all concerned, especially the delicate mind of Miss Allen."

His toothy, smug smile makes Frank want to belt him one, but with so much at stake, he chooses instead to bite the inside of his lip and continue with mocking kindness. He looks over to the Dowlins and wills them to simply follow suit as he addresses the good doctor.

"Yes, indeed. We want nothing more than to make sure everything is handled with the utmost delicacy," Franks returns his own snide smile, "Please lead the way."

The group begins to move through the halls in silence as Frank thinks over the reason for the doctor, Molly's doctor, to be the one to greet them in the entrance. It has always amazed him at how people react in the face of righting a wrong, for if this is Molly, it is an egregious error that demands immediate rectification. He wonders if this doctor is somehow threatened by the prospect that for three years he has caged, drugged, and ignored the cries of an innocent young girl. Far too often he has seen presumably good men push back instead of correcting a wrong when they feel they could in some ways be to blame. He prays for the sake of the girl and the Dowlins that this is not the case.

Arriving at Dr. Shurtleff's door, Frank watches as the Dowlins are shown to the family waiting room before he enters the office with Dr. Stancliffe following. This time Dr. Shurtleff does not come up and greet Frank with a warm welcome but instead eyes him suspiciously as his gaze turns to the other men in the room. Walking up to an older gentleman dressed in a pristine suit, his white hair perfectly combed to the side, Frank holds out his hand in greeting.

"Judge Keagan, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Yes, well. Your telegrams were definitely intriguing, to say the least." The judge takes the offered hand and then continues, "I know you, Frank, you wouldn't call me here if you didn't think it was true."

"Thank you, sir," Franks smiles and turns to his two deputy marshalls, "Eddie, Mark," he greets them.

He then turns back to Dr. Shurtleff who has remained quietly sitting behind his desk. Catching the superintendent's eyes shifting to the folder sitting on his desk, Frank assumes it belongs to the girl.

"I'd like to see the original order that placed the girl here," Frank's voice leaves no room for argument, even if he is trying to be polite as possible, "If I am correct we should see the signatures of both Judge Tyrone and Phil Archer."

The superintendent opens the folder and pulls out the original order, handing it over to Frank. As Frank looks at the signatures, he notices Dr. Stancliffe shift uncomfortably under the glare of the man who is his boss. Looking down at the order, Frank can't help but smile as he hands the form over to Judge Keagan.

"Alright, the signatures match what you were expecting to find," the judge shakes his head, "I just can't believe that George Tyrone would have been involved in something like this."

"Not just him," Frank adds, "It appears Dr. Tilden also was involved. Eddie here was able to find out that a substantial deposit was made into his account on the day the girl was committed."

"And you honestly think this girl has been telling the truth about her identity all these years?" Dr. Shurtleff asks, leaning forward on his elbows. He face aging before them, they can see the weight of responsibility he feels. "Dr. Stancliffe, bring the girl out of the holding room and let's see if the Dowlins are indeed her parents," he orders.

"Sir, I have to object. I have been working with this girl for over three years, she is delusional and indulging in her fantasies could set back her treatment."

"As you have told me since yesterday, and I am not asking. Bring her in here and I'll get the Dowlins."

They all watch as Dr. Stancliffe storms out of the room mumbling his displeasures under his breath. Standing from behind his desk, Dr. Shurtleff looks at Frank and the judge, before moving toward the door.

"What a mess. I do hope you are right, Marshal Sawyer," he says as he leaves the room.

* * *

Walking over to the window, Gene looks out over the vast land and tries to imagine just where Jarrod and Nick may be and if they have been successful in their search for his mother and Audra. He wishes that he could be out there beside them, searching, but also understands that someone needs to stay behind with Heath. Especially, since it is so unclear who the actual target is and they promised their little brother that one of them will be with him until this, whatever this is, is over.

Glancing back at the sleeping blonde, he leans against the window frame and searches the horizon for any type of sign of the men returning. It has only been about an hour since the men left to pick up the search and in that time he has paced around the room incessantly. Well, until Heath, who was just as worried, finally asked him to sit down and then tried his best to distract him. He smiles when he thinks about his new blonde brother's eyelids sliding closed halfway through their fourth round of poker. He looks over toward the bed and watches the even rise and fall of the boy's chest and sends a silent thank you, knowing that Heath stayed awake as long as he could to help distract Gene from his worry.

Looking back out toward the yard, he turns his gaze over to the front of the house where Willy is supposed to be standing guard. Not seeing his intended target, he moves to the other side of the window to get a better view, knowing from this room he might not be able to see the man he is looking for. Willy is nowhere in sight and a slight pull on his stomach sends an uneasy feeling through it. He turns back toward the bedroom door, thinking of running down to check on the men stationed around the house only to be confronted by a smiling Buddy carrying in a tray of coffee.

"Hey, Gene," Buddy starts glancing over at the sleeping Heath, "I thought maybe you could use some company and some coffee, so I had Silas make up a tray." He holds up the tray as if to show it off.

Gene looks at the tray and back to Buddy and has to admit it does sound nicer than continuing to pace around the room.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Gene smiles and waves Buddy over toward the chairs near the windows.

"Doc says I'm fine and besides I don't think I could sleep right now. I'm too worried about Aunt Victoria and Audra."

He sets the coffee down on the dresser and begins to pour them each a cup, handing the first one to Gene. He glances again at Heath and then picks up his own cup and goes to sit beside a man he once considered a brother.

"I guess Heath was able to sleep with no problem."

Taken aback by the underhanded comment, Gene sips his coffee and notices the disdain in Buddy's eyes as he stares at Heath. _Where is this coming from?_

"From what I know about Heath, I think if it was up to him, he would have figured out a way to be on a horse out looking."

"Oh, I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it the way it sounded," Buddy apologizes and then takes a sip of his own coffee and watches as Gene once again raises his cup to his mouth and allows the hot liquid to flow past his lips.

"It's ok. Guess I'm a little on edge." Gene takes another sip. "Thanks for bringing up the coffee, I needed it. It tastes different. Almost like there's a hint of almonds in it."

His last few words slur together as he fights to keep his eyelids open.

"What'd you do?" Gene's eyes beg Buddy to answer as his cup falls from his hand.

"Almond extract, I asked Silas to add some," Buddy answers, his voice completely devoid of any emotion, "A friend of mine introduced me to it. He swears almonds are going to be the biggest crop in all of California in the next couple of years."


	34. Chapter 34

The dim lighting seeps in through the tightly tied cloth wrapped around her head, covering her eyes. As she moves her head around, she is unable to make out any features in the room she has been brought into as the tiny slit only allows slim glimpses of shapes around her. Twisting her wrist again, the rope holding them tightly together scrapes against her delicate skin causing her to grimace. The ropes are not tight enough to cause her pain but are secure enough to thwart any attempts she makes toward freedom. Drawing in a deep breath she thinks back over the events that lead her here, the race to get home after hearing of the attack on Heath, the three men who came out of nowhere and brought their buggy to a stop and the betrayal of a young man she once considered a son. _Why Buddy? Why would you do such a thing?_ Victoria wonders as she works to calm the rising anger she feels.

Twisting her hands once more against the ropes, the sound of a door opening causes her to pause and her heart to beat harder within her chest. Clenching her jaw, she works to calm the rising tide of anxiety as she helplessly prepares for whatever may come next when she hears the sound of footsteps moving toward her. Desperate, she balls her hands into fists ready to do anything she can to fend off those who dare to attack her. She thinks about Audra, her beautiful daughter, trapped with these wretched men and her blood boils knowing that she is unable to protect her. Pulling her elbows back against her sides, she feels a dip in the bed she is sitting on and smells the familiar scent of the perfume Audra loves so much. Pushing down the lump that has formed in her throat, wanting to be strong for her daughter, she slowly reaches her hands over to the form beside her only for them to be quickly clasped between the soft skin she knows all too well.

"Audra?" she tentatively asks, keeping her voice as strong as possible.

"Yes, Mother. It's me," Audra gently whispers and squeezes her mother's hand gently, "I'm fine, they didn't hurt me," she continues before her mother can even ask the question.

Victoria can hear the slight inflection in her daughter's voice and is filled with pride for the young woman sitting beside her, who she can tell is trying so hard to remain strong. Picking up her daughter's hands she gently moves them closer to her as she gives them a reassuring squeeze and then glides closer to her. At the sound of something being dragged across the room, she tightens her hold and moves in closer as her heart thunders in her chest. She can feel Audra shaking beside her and is powerless to stop the moisture that lines her eyes at the fear emanating through her daughter's body. She wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around Audra's shoulder in comfort and protection but her tied hands prevent any such movement.

The thundering sounds of multiple feet entering the room cause them both to pause and sit up a little straighter. Again, the pride she feels for her young daughter flows through her as she can feel Audra stiffen and push her shoulders back in a defiant pose her mother knows all too well. Victoria can't help the smile Audra's actions causes, but she quickly regains her composure as she feels hands reach out to the back of her head and gently remove the blindfold she has been wearing since the ambush on the trail home. Blinking against the light, she gives her eyes a moment to adjust as she focuses in on the couple sitting directly in front of her.

The woman is only a few years younger than herself, with speckled hair that whisps out in all directions from the loose bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes are grey and empty and seem to be fluttering around them as she too sizes up her prey. The most peculiar thing that Victoria notices is that her dress is brand new and finely made to perfectly fit her thin frame. The light blue material compliments her grey eyes and pale skin and the delicate lace lines her neck perfectly. Victoria can see that in her prime this was a beautiful woman.

The man, however, is a different story. The stench of alcohol radiates off of him as his skin is covered with a thin layer of perspiration. His gaunt frame is accentuated by the loosely fitting grey shirt that hangs partially untucked out of the dark grey pants he is wearing and his boots are old and worn to the point that Victoria can see that the edges are pulling away from the sole. His hair is grey and untidy and his chin bares the stubble of a face unshaven for the last few days. His skin is tanned and wrinkled like old shoe leather and his blue eyes are glazed over as he stares at them. It is the same look she remembers seeing when he pulled his horse in front of the buggy forcing them to stop.

Hearing a sound to her left, she sees the young man she assumes removed her blindfold, gently removing Audras as well before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a silver blade. Jumping to her feet Victoria quickly moves in front of Audra ready to defend her with her life, an action that causes the perfectly dressed woman to laugh hysterically, almost falling out of her chair.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt you or her," the drunken man slurs as he tries to sit up straighter in his chair, "Just gonna remove the binding on your wrist, is all."

Never letting her eyes move from the man with the knife, she watches as he slowly raises it up in a show of surrender before gently slicing through the ropes holding her wrists together. Motioning toward Audra he again holds up the knife and waits as Victoria slowly moves out of the way and allows him to cut through the bindings that were biting into her daughter's wrists. As he backs away, Victoria retakes her seat and continues to take in every aspect of her surroundings, starting with her eyes following the young man back toward the only door where he now stands with another man who is clearly his brother. The two look to be about Nick and Gene's ages, respectively. The rest of the room is bare except for the bed that Audra and she currently sit upon and the two chairs that were dragged in from outside.

Absently massaging her wrists where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw, she looks back to the couple sitting in front of them. A few moments of silence pass as each couple waits for the other to begin. She feels Audra shift closer to her and she wraps her arm around her daughter's waist in an effort to comfort her as the four of them stare at each other. Finally, the woman leans slightly forward and gives them a thin smile that seems to spread a veil of devilry across her eyes.

"So you're Victoria Barkley, the queen bee of the valley. I thought you'd be taller, considering how tall your husband was," the woman seethes, unable to hide her disdain for the woman in front of her, "Good old Tom, I remember him well."

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage. You obviously know who we are but we do not know who you are or why you have chosen to kidnap us." Victoria calmly replies though she is convinced that this must be Matt and Martha Simmons. It is the only thing that makes sense.

"Kidnap you? Oh, no, that is not our doing, it is simply an arrangement that was made to secure our future and to right a wrong that was done to us."

 _That wrong being Heath._ Victoria cringes at the thought but silently waits for her to continue.

"I'm sure you have already guessed," Martha smiles, "I'm Martha Simmons and this is my husband, Matt." She slaps Matt hard on the leg causing him to jolt up in his chair.

"Heath's aunt and uncle?"

"I don't claim that bastard! He's no family of mine!" Matt yells but then settles back in the chair at his wife's insistence.

Victoria feels Audra reach over and tightly grab her hand. Again, the swell of pride she feels for her daughter takes her breath, knowing that she suppressed her natural instincts to jump up and defend her brother in order to make sure the conversation continues. Rubbing her daughter's back, Victoria wastes no time trying to pull information out of the couple.

"You said this was an arrangement. May I ask, who wants us held here?"

"You already know. He helped get you here. Why Buddy Tyrone, of course." Matt laughs at the stupidity of the question.

"But why?" Victoria absently says out loud to no one in particular.

"Don't know, don't care. As long as I get what's coming to me." Matt slurs, smiling until he sees the look his wife is giving him. The one that tells him to shut up or else!

"We don't know the answer to that question. We only know that we made an agreement to hold you here until he comes for you," Martha states, her voice teetering between calm and excited, she continues, "Now, I am a smart woman," she gloats, "and I am always looking for ways to build upon my profit. The way I see it you may be able to make me a better offer, one that benefits all of us."

"I'm listening." Wondering if it might be this easy, Victoria smiles.

"Well, there would be the payment for letting you go and your sons, of course."

Martha watches with delight as Victoria's calm exterior quivers.

"My sons?" Victoria questions as a deep fear grips her heart.

"Oh, yes," she smiles, "not to mention payment for keeping that horrible secret for all these years. See, we knew what happened between Leah and Tom and have only worked to hide that embarrassment for the sakes of both our families. I would think there would be some sort of reward for acting so honorably on your behalf."

"Honorably," Audra chokes out unable to contain herself.

"Why, yes," Martha continues, oblivious to the levels of hatred seeping from Audra's eyes, "I realize we failed all those years ago but we do plan to rectify that situation here in the very near future."

Victoria feels Audra start to rise and quickly tightens her hold on her hand and waist, keeping her in place.

"You have Heath here?" Victoria can barely contain the worry in her voice over the thought of these two monsters getting their hands on Heath. She remembers the fear she had seen in his eyes at just the mention of their names.

"Not yet, but he should be arriving shortly." Martha laughs, giving them a glimpse of the insanity behind her calm demeanor.

Rising from her chair she smacks Matt on the back of his head causing him to sluggishly rise and start to shuffle his feet over to the door beside the two men. Following her husband as they start to leave the room, Martha turns back toward Audra and Victoria who have also risen and are watching as the group departs from the room.

"I'll just give you all some time to think over my offer," Martha says as she closes and locks the door behind her.

* * *

The rough hands tossing him onto his bare stomach hardly register to his sluggish brain as his body fights to fall back into a deep sleep. It's not until his arms are ripped from his sides and forcibly thrown together behind his back that the pain radiating from his ribs and wound send shockwaves crashing through his battered frame. Lifting his head, his swollen left eye hinders his ability to look around the room as he frantically tries to locate Gene and make sure he is okay. Not being able to see Gene, he tries to turn his head and see who this new attacker is but instead he gulps in a large intake of air as someone presses their knee into his upper back and draws his hands closer together. Heath knows he is in trouble as he feels the ropes being tightly wrapped around his wrists, he has no strength to even try to fight off the person or persons who are on top of him.

The last pull on the rope cuts into Heath's wrists causing a small moan to escape his closed lips, a sound that brings laughter out of the men holding him down. As he tries to catch his breath, he feels hands wrap around his arms and he is unceremoniously tossed onto his back as he feels ropes now being wrapped just as tightly around his bare ankles. Lifting his head off the bed, his confusion grows as he sees Buddy Tyrone watching as Barrett ties his ankles together. Desperately searching the room for his brother, his breath catches and he feels as if he will never breathe again when he sees the lifeless form of Gene slumped in the high back chair facing the window.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Heath screams unable to take his eyes off his brother.

Realizing their prisoner is awake, Barrett quickly finishes tying off the ropes, a movement that causes Heath to wince. Ignoring his questions, Buddy motions to Jed and Barrett to follow him over beside Gene and after a few whispered words they pick up Gene and start to carry him out of the room.

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING? LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Heath continues to scream as he watches helplessly, as the two men take Gene out. Breathing heavily, Heath glares at Buddy who is walking over toward him. "How could you do this? He is your friend!"

"Now, Heath," Buddy answers as he leans one knee on the bed beside the boy, "it's nothing personal, just business."

"I swear, I'll make you pay!" Heath snarls, glaring at Buddy so intensely that it causes Buddy to back away.

He has no doubt that if this boy were to live he would find him and get revenge. _I guess it's a good thing, he ain't going to live._ Leaning over the struggling boy, he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and neatly folds it as he takes a vial out of his other pocket. Opening the vial he dabs a few drops of the clear liquid on the cloth and quickly places it over Heath's nose and mouth, holding it firmly in place as the boy does his best to try and get out from underneath his hand. Knowing Heath is no match for him in his weakened condition, Buddy watches in admiration at the effort the boy is putting into his escape attempt. After a few minutes, he sees the effects of the sweet smelling liquid starting to take effect and feels a surge of excitement at the fear he now sees in the closing blue eyes. As he allows the liquid to complete its task, Barrett and Jed walk in just as Buddy tosses the offensive handkerchief on the floor.

"Alright, you know what to do with him," Buddy tells the two men. He watches as they, not too gently, pick up the unconscious Heath and quickly head out the door. With them gone Buddy heads back over to the high back chairs, takes a seat and sips at his coffee.

* * *

Dabbing the beads of sweat dripping off his forehead, he practically runs in his office and slams closed the door. Walking over to his desk, he plops down in his chair and runs his hands over his face. _How did it come to this?_ He takes in a deep breath and glances up at the diploma hanging so proudly on the wall and he wonders what happened to that idealistic young man who wanted to fight on behalf of the less fortunate. _Yes, what happened to him, Roger?_ Years of working in a new field, often not respected, and one where the results were few and far between. His passion waned and the melancholy set in, he found himself standing next to Dr. Tilden when a young girl was brought in by Judge George Tyrone.

Somehow he convinced himself that she was Sissy Allen and not Molly Dowlin, somehow he convinced himself he was actually helping her to recover. _So the doctor becomes his own patient._ His mind wanders as he thinks about how easy it was for him to shift his thinking and protect himself. Turning back to his desk he shuffles around the papers until his hands fall on the envelope that was delivered to him last week. Lifting the envelope to eye level, he takes a deep breath as his shaky hands carefully open the large flap. Closing his eyes and dabbing his forehead once again, he works to steady fear pulsating through his body, before he reaches into the envelope and pulls out a small vial with a white powder inside.

Setting the vial on the desk, he walks over to the pitcher of water on a shelf by the wall and takes out a glass, filling it about half way full. Taking a deep breath, he turns back to his desk as a wave of dizziness overcomes him sending him to his knees where he begins shivering uncontrollably. _Can I really do this? Is this really what I am?_ He asks himself as he rubs his hands together and rocks back and forth. Finally getting control of his emotions and realizing he is running out of time, he slowly rises and once again his eyes fall on the diploma with his name, Dr. Roger Stancliffe, big and bold across the front. _Everything I have worked so hard for will be stripped away if they find out what I've done._ Reeling in his resolve he takes a steadying breath as he reaches for the vial and pours its content into the glass of water. The scent of almonds seeps out of the glass as he moves toward his office door.

Looking back one last time at his name, he thinks back to those innocent days studying the mind and challenging his classmates. As he heads down the hall toward the basement corridor, he wonders if any of them would ever believe that he would become a murderer.


	35. Chapter 35

"Dammit!" Jim yells as he jumps off his horse and lands roughly on the ground.

He quickly walks ahead of the group of men and bends down to examine the ground more closely. Tracing the imprints with a hovering hand, he works his way around in a circle and then abruptly looks up toward the sky and takes in a calming breath.

The rest of the group watches him with leery eyes as they wait patiently for him to let them know what he has discovered. A difficult task for Nick, who shifts in his saddle as the tension coursing through his body makes him feel as though at any moment he may burst. He can tell the skill Jim possesses and trusts in his apparent expertise to guide them in the right direction. It is the images of his mother and sister being held god only knows where and by some unknown assailant, that is working to unhinge him.

Noticing the subtle shifts and tightening jaw of his volatile brother, Jarrod reaches over and places a gentle hand on Nick's arm in an effort to calm him. He knows this brother and he knows that the last few hours have been torture for them both as they race to safely bring the two most important women in their lives home.

"What is it, Jim?" Jarrod asks as he tightens his grip on his brother's arm. They are losing light as the sun has already begun its descent over the horizon and with darkness comes an end to their search until morning. The thought of their mother and Audra remaining prisoners until morning is a prospect that sends a wave of dread rippling through him.

"Looks like they stopped here for a minute and then split up," he answers as he walks to one edge of his invisible circle and squats down again, "Two of them headed this way, back toward the ranch."

"Heath!" Alpha worriedly voices the concern that is also swirling around Jim's mind.

He nods to Alpha and then locks eyes with the Barkley brothers, not missing their own looks of concern. Walking over to the opposite side from where he currently stands, he squats down again and after a few moments, he tells them what he has found.

"Three more went this way," Jim tells them as he stands back up.

"They're splitting us up," Fred shakes his head. _This just gets more and more confusing_. He lifts up his hat and runs his hands through his hair. Shifting slightly on the saddle, he reaches down and grabs his canteen and takes a swig.

"OF COURSE THEY ARE!" Nick hollers, unable to contain his rage any longer. Someone is toying with them, shifting the targets, and he'll be damned if he is going to let this continue. His mother and sister are missing, kidnapped, and now his brother appears to be in danger once again. Balling up his fist he pounds it into his leg in pure frustration at the tangled web they are being wrapped in. He looks over at Jarrod hoping his big brother might alleviate some of the pressure he feels.

Jarrod immediately recognizes the look in Nick's eye and knows he is struggling with the obvious game being played, one where they appear to be the pawns. This is clearly more than a simple revenge against Heath, but whether the true target is Heath or one of the other Barkleys is yet to be seen and only gets more blurred with each new event. The latest, this splitting up of the kidnappers, once again leads back to Heath. _Was this their plan, to get us out of the house and take another shot at Heath?_

"Nick, you continue on in search of Mother and Audra and I'll head back to the ranch. Jim, I'm assuming you would want to head back to the ranch with me?"

"No, can't Jarrod. I promised Heath I'd help you find your mother and sister and he would be hotter than the devil's pitchfork if I left before that happened," Jim answers as he looks over to Alpha. Shaking his head, wondering if this is the right call, he continues, "Alpha, you head back with Jarrod and check in on Heath."

"Yes sir, Uncle Jim!" Alpha is quick to respond, already turning his horse in the direction of the ranch.

"But, Boy," Jim sternly addresses Alpha, "Don't go doing anything stupid. You know your mama only let you come if I promised nothing would happen to you."

"I won't, Uncle Jim, I promise!"

"I'll keep on eye on him." Jarrod cuts in seeing the worry in Jim's eyes. Jim just nods his thanks and heads over to mount his steed.

"Pete, Tim, you head on back with Jarrod and Alpha," Nick barks, not wanting to waste any more time, "Joe, Lee, you come with us. Fred, which way you headed?"

"I'm coming with you, Nick," Fred answers releasing a deep sigh, "Jarrod will have more men back at the ranch and he knows the law as well as I do."

Jarrod nods to Fred in agreement and then turns to Nick, giving his arm one more squeeze, "You be careful, Nick."

"You too, Pappy," Nick says as he places his hand on top of Jarrod's and gives him one last nod wishing him good luck. Abruptly turning his horse in the direction Jim noted, he rides off with the other men following close behind.

* * *

"Frank will you stop that damn pacing, you're liable to wear a hole in the floor!" Judge Keagan yells as he rubs his temples with his thumbs.

Frank stops abruptly and smiles to himself, slightly embarrassed as he remembers he is not alone in the room. Pacing is not a normal behavior for Frank, he is not high strung and has no problem being still for any length of time, but ever since Dr. Stancliffe left to get Molly and Dr. Shurtleff went next door to go speak with the Dowlins, his keen senses seem to be on overdrive.

"Sorry, your honor," Frank apologies, walking over to lean on the wall beside the desk. He glances over at Eddie and Mark who are watching him intently. It really has only been about ten minutes since both doctors left the room.

"Something bothering you, Frank? Maybe, it'd help if you share it with the rest of us?" Eddie recommends. He has worked with Frank enough to know when something has buried itself in deep and refuses to make itself known to the dedicated lawman.

Bowing his head, Franks reels in a deep breath trying to put into words the feeling that is turning his insides into knots. He honestly does not know what exactly is causing his discomfort. He looks over to Eddie and Mark, two good men he has worked with numerous times in the past, and starts to answer his question when the door to the office slams open and Dr. Shurtleff comes barreling back inside looking as though he has aged ten years in the last few minutes.

Scurrying immediately over to his desk, he plops down in his chair and goes to reach for the drawer on the bottom left, when he finally meets their eyes and pauses in shock, as though he forgot there were others waiting in his office for his return. With one quick glance back to the drawer he allows a slight grumble of annoyance to escape his lips as he places his head in his hands. Fully aware of the four sets of eyes staring directly at him, he slowly allows his fingers to slide slowly down his face until they eventually fall onto his desk. He does nothing to hide the contempt he feels for Frank making a mockery of the institution he governs and can already see the headlines that will be strewn across the country.

"You know," his voice barely above a whisper, he turns directly to Frank, the person who brought this upon them all, "even if it is their daughter, that is not who they will be getting back. That girl has spent the last three years in a basement with Dr. Stancliffe telling her she is someone else."

Frank stands taller knowing that the words Dr. Shurtleff speaks are the truth, in fact, they are the same words he battled with as he rode away from Ophir the very first time. He is under no delusion that this is going to have a happy ending, that the Dowlins are going to leave here and life will simply return to normal. Their daughter has been held against her will, in the basement of a psychiatric facility for the last three years, three formative years in the young girl's life. Life will never be the same after today for the Dowlins and he takes full responsibility for the decision that he made in revealing to them what might have occurred in concern to their daughter.

"They're her parents. They have a right to know what happened and she has a right to get her life back," Franks fumes as he walks over to stand in front of the superintendent's desk. Placing his hands down on top of the stack of folders, he leans in closer to Dr. Shurtleff's face hoping he is making his point clear. Just as he opens his mouth to continue his rebuttal of the heartlessness he hears, that gnawing feeling that has been circling around his brain for the last ten minutes starts to unwind.

"Dr. Stancliffe has been her doctor the whole time she has been here?" Frank asks, standing back up to full height.

"Yes, and that whole time…" Dr. Shurtleff starts to answer only to be cut off by Frank dashing out of his office door.

Glancing at each other, Eddie and Mark just shrug their shoulders and take off after him leaving the other two men standing there in wonder.

* * *

The lure of nothingness pulls at his core as the veil of darkness, that has been his companion and has allowed him a moment of peace, begins its subtle descent back over the creases of his mind. As it slowly makes it way over his subconscious, it is gradually replaced with a pounding in his head so intense he fears it will cause him to go blind. Straining, he tries desperately one last time to hook the veil that has protected him, but the veil is thinning into nothing more than a thin grey mist with nothing tangible for his hooks to grab onto. He has no choice but to awaken, to come back into himself, to once again feel the pain, the pain of loss, the pain of isolation, and the physical pain from his most recent injuries. He would much rather just be allowed to fade.

Steeling himself, he tries to even out his breathing and work through the stabbing hot pokers piercing his brain as he starts to take inventory of the different parts of his body screaming out to him in agony. Aside from the unrelenting pounding in his head, his arms feel as though they are being ripped from the sockets as they bear his full weight. A sharp metal cutting into his wrists and ankles tells him that he has some kind of handcuffs or manacles holding his hands and feet together. Using his fingers he feels a rope that is attached to the short chain in between the two cuffs, the tension in the rope tells him that that is what is holding him suspended in the air.

Trying to gauge the distance between his feet and the ground, he risks the pain to try and see if his bare toes can even scrape the surface of the floor. With his cracked ribs and partially healed bullet wound already screaming out because of the position he is in, his attempts to reach the floor send searing pain coursing through him. Fighting off a wave of dizziness he abandons his attempts to touch the ground and leans his head more on his right arm as he wills himself to keep the nausea rising in his throat at bay until the room stops spinning.

Gradually gaining control, he slowly opens his right eye and dares to look around the small room. Over in the far corner, he sees the familiar boots of his brother Gene sticking out of the shadows. Working his eyes up the legs to fall on Gene's face, he feels a small amount of joy even in this the direst of circumstances. _They sure wouldn't bother to lock up a dead man._

Lost in the relief he feels at his brother being alive, Heath fails to hear the sound of the door opening until the creaking steps catch his attention. With no time to play possum and try to get a handle on the situation, he does his best to stare defiantly in the face of those who plan to torment him.

"Well, well, look who decided to join us," Jed walks up and stands in Heath's face, "Are you ready to have some fun, BOY."


	36. Chapter 36

Staring out the boarded window, her eyes search the horizon for any signs that her sons are out there and not somewhere trapped in this house. She is sure that Jarrod and Nick will have immediately left in search of them, as soon as their buggy was discovered. Her fear, after hearing Martha's declaration that she holds her sons as well, is that somehow Buddy was able to overpower them. Victoria knows she has to be very careful how she goes about dealing with the obviously deranged woman, and her first objective will be to gain proof about her sons one way or the other. _At least Gene and Heath should be safe on the ranch._

Turning back around she watches Audra, who has been kneeling down near the lock of the door, abruptly stand up and start looking around the barren room. Audra, unaware of the eyes upon her, walks slowly around the room staring at the floor until she ends up beside the bed where she bends down and lifts up the thin mattress. Using her fingers she begins to trace the thin metal wires that the mattress is lying upon. The scowl that suddenly adorns her face is followed by an exasperated sigh as she turns and plops down on top of the bed, causing Victoria to smile. She recognizes the sheer determination she sees in her daughter's eyes, it is the same one she has witnessed many times when her very capable daughter has an idea she is trying to make come to fruition.

"What is it, Audra?" She asks as she walks over to sit beside her and then takes her daughter's hand in her own.

"Oh, Mother," Audra's voice echoes disappointment, "I…," she stops talking and stares at her mother's hair, "What is your hairpin made of?"

Unconsciously, Victoria reaches her hand up and begins to trace the hairpin she is wearing, 'My hairpin? I'm not sure. I think…"

The sound of a key being inserted into the lock on the door brings their conversation to a halt as both women rise to their feet, with Victoria stepping slightly in front of Audra. Bracing themselves for what is to come, they hear the familiar click of the lock opening and see the slow twist of the doorknob before the door swings open. In walks the two young men that had accompanied Matt and Martha earlier. One young man is carrying a tray and the other is carrying a small table. Placing the table down across from the bed, the young man quickly leaves and returns with two chairs that he sets on opposites sides of the table. The other young man then sets the tray down before turning to the two frightened women.

"Good Evening, ma'am. My name is Clay Haskins and this is my brother Larry. I know we weren't properly introduced earlier."

Victoria does not respond but simply glances over to the table.

"The Simmons asked us to bring up ya supper and ta let ya know they'll be in to see you in the morning," Clay continues as he uncovers the tray of food and begins to set two bowls and three spoons on the table. Picking up an extra spoon, he uncovers the pot of stew, dips the spoon in, getting a nice portion, and sticks it in his mouth. He then rips off a piece of bread, smears some of the leftover gravy from the spoon on top before popping it in his mouth. Lastly, he picks up the extra glass and the pitcher of water, pours himself some and then quickly downs it. Looking up, he sees two sets of curious eyes watching him.

"They wanted ya ta know they ain't poisoned ya," Clay smiles, sticking the used spoon in his pocket and handing the glass over to Larry who says nothing. He then moves away from the table and gestures for the women to sit.

Victoria and Audra exchange glances but neither one makes any effort to move.

"I'd like to speak with Mrs. Simmons this evening," Victoria requests in the most regal voice, "concerning our coming to an applicable agreement."

"Sorry ma'am, the Simmons are going to be busy tonight," Clay smiles over to his brother who tries to stifle his own laughter, "but I'll let them know you asked."

Heading over to the door the two brothers start to leave when Clay stops and turns back toward the two women.

"I almost forgot!" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a leather wallet. 'I was supposed to give you this," He says, as he hands it over to Victoria.

Her eyes pool as she traces the item with her fingers. "Gene," she whispers, as she recognizes the gift she had given him for his last birthday. "He's here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Simmons figured you would want some kind of proof."

"And Heath? Is here as well?" She is able to keep her voice steady against the overwhelming panic she is feeling. She knows their best chance is for her to play their game and make a deal for her sons' release. _Yes, her sons._

The brothers exchange snide glances with one another before busting out in laughter.

Bringing his outburst under control, Clay finally answers, "Yes, ma'am. Got'em both. You'll be able to see'm tomorrow."

Without giving her a chance to respond, he lightly pushes his brother toward the door and the two leave the room, locking the door behind them.

Turning to face Audra, Victoria gently wipes away the tears falling down her daughter's face before pulling her into a fierce hug and allowing her own tears to fall. Gene and Heath are here and somehow she needs to figure out a way to help them.

* * *

The sight greeting Jarrod, and his group of men, as they ride into the courtyard of the mansion sends waves of alarm rippling just underneath Jarrod's skin. The door to the mansion is wide open and sprawled out on the front porch is Willy, his gun laying on the ground beside him. Scanning the perimeter for any type of movement, Jarrod quietly draws his gun and motions for the others to do the same. The yard is eerily silent, void of any signs of life, no Ciego, no horses, just nothing. He looks over at Alpha and can see the distressed look in the young man's eyes. Something happened here just after they left, someone planned this and they fell right into their trap.

Carefully moving to dismount, he keeps his gun ready and his eyes alert, as his heart screams for him to get inside and check on his brothers. Wasting no time, as his feet hit the ground he quickly makes his way over to Willy, the young ranch hand who had been tasked with guarding the front door for intruders. Squatting down beside him, Jarrod places his fingers on his neck and happily feels the rhythmic pounding of a steady pulse. Moving his hand down to lay upon the man's chest, he feels the steady rise and fall of each breath. Tapping the calm face, his confusion rises as the man grumbles and then turns over onto his side, mumbling something about it not being time to wake up. Looking around at the scene once again, he notices a mug laying on its side near Willy's gun. Reaching down, he grabs the mug before standing up and facing the other men.

"I think he's asleep," Jarrod explains to the invested group behind him.

"Willy, he'd never do that, Mr. Barkley," Pete jumps in to defend his friend.

Holding up the mug, he looks inside and then sets it down on the porch.

"I don't think he did it on purpose," he replies, "Pete, stay out here and keep watch, the rest of you follow me."

Making his way through the front door, Jarrod reels in his worry and tries to concentrate on the task at hand as his instincts keep screaming that whoever is behind this is long gone. He is well aware, that when he reaches the top of the stairs and walks into the room that now belongs to his youngest brother, it will be empty and once again he will have failed to protect his family. _We seem to continually be two steps behind and now they have two more members of our family._ Dejected, he tries to shake away the thoughts clouding his brain and focus on discovering what occurred while they were gone.

Motioning for Tim to head toward the kitchen, Jarrod and Alpha start to make the ascent up the grand stairs. A noise coming from the hall causes them to pause and raise their guns in defense of who might be approaching. It is not until they hear the familiar sound of Duke McCall's baritone voice, that he relaxes a little. A small feeling of relief moves throughout him as he sees the familiar face of their foreman making his way around the corner to stand directly in front of him.

"Duke," Jarrod greets the other man while holstering his gun and motioning for Alpha to do the same. Accepting the outstretched hand, he notices the concerned look in Duke's eyes and knows he is about to confirms Jarrod's astute conclusions, his brothers are gone.

"Jarrod, it's good to see you," Duke begins, not waiting for the questions to be asked, knowing that this Barkley will want him to get straight to the point.

"We were the first crew back. When we got here, the door was open and there wasn't a soul in sight. Ciego, Willy, Red, Colb, and Snyder were all passed out or asleep, can't say for sure which, but I went ahead and sent Leroy for the doc. I left Jacob with Red and them and the rest of us," he points to the three men behind him, "came over to check out the house." He pauses for a moment and runs a hand through his hair.

"When no one answered, we went ahead and came in through the kitchen, that's where we found Silas unconscious on the kitchen floor," he stops for a moment not missing the concerned look that flashes across Jarrod's eyes.

"He's got a steady pulse just like the rest of them," Duke pauses again letting that sink into the distraught man in front of him. He has known this boy for most of his life and he knows how deeply he cares about his friends and family, even if he has learned to hide it behind a cool demeanor.

"Jamie is down in the kitchen with Silas, then we come up the back stairs."

"Gene, Heath?" Jarrod interrupts, his heart racing, knowing the answer but still needing to ask.

"I'm sorry, Jarrod. They ain't here. Ya might want to come and have a look at the room. Buddy is in a chair, out just like the rest of 'em."

Taking a step around Duke, Jarrod and Alpha walk into the small room that faces the corral. Their breath catches as they both see the disheveled state of the bed. Heath had put up a struggle but in the end, his weakened body was no match for the men determined to take him. Walking toward the chairs where he can see the top of Buddy's head, he can see the coffee service set on the nightstand that Heath only days ago used for a table. _That must have been how they slipped them the sleeping powder._ Taking another step forward he feels the rise of his foot as he steps on something discarded on the floor. Kneeling down he picks up the strangely familiar handkerchief and raises it to his nose taking the aroma of a sweet smelling liquid.

"What is it?" Alpha asks, making his way over to Jarrod.

"Chloroform," Jarrod answers as he tucks the cloth into his pocket.

He walks over to the bed and gently wipes his hand over the sheets where his little brother has spent so much time over the last week trying to heal from his injuries. His mind flashes to the few times he was able to keep Heath company while he recovered. The boy has a sharp mind and a unique view of the world that challenged Jarrod to look beyond his normal scope of reality. _We're not going to lose you now that we are just starting to get to know you. I'm not going to let that happen._

"You think they used that on Heath and Gene?" Alpha interrupts his contemplations.

Glancing back to where Buddy is asleep in the chair and then over to the bed once again, Jarrod notices rope fibers on the white sheets.

"I think they drugged Gene and tied up Heath, then used the chloroform on him," Jarrod's voice is heavy as he thinks about what his brothers must have gone through. Looking up he sees Duke standing in the doorway, "Duke, please have the men get the horses settled. Once the doc has a chance to check everyone over and the other crews have come in, I'll be riding out to meet back up with Nick. We'll need you to keep an eye on things here."

"Sure thing, Jarrod." he nods toward his boss, a man he greatly respects.

"And, Duke," Jarrod calls to him as he leaves, "remember, whoever did this had to be trusted by all these men."

* * *

 _Stupid, Frank! How could you be so stupid? It only makes sense that the girl's doctor would be in on it._

Running further down into the depths of Ophir, his thoughts have a paralyzing effect on his ability to care what happens to him. His only concern is getting to the girl, whoever she turns out to be, and making sure no further harm comes to her. _How did you not see this before?_ He scolds himself, as he turns toward the gated path separating the rest of the hospital with that of the basement. Seeing the attendees rise to meet him, Frank comes to a stop and for the first time notices Eddie and Mark coming up behind him.

"Unlock the gate, we need to get through," Frank demands.

"Sorry, Marshal," the attendee answers apologetically, "only authorized personnel are allowed past this gate. Unless you have the approval of the superintendent."

"Son, I aim to save a young girl's life," he starts as he pulls his gun from its holster, "and I don't plan on allowing anything to get in my way." He points his gun at the orderly. In his peripheral vision, he can see that Eddie and Mark have drawn their guns as well. "Now, do you plan to continue to impede the lawful authority of the U.S. Marshals?"

He can see the sweat beading on the man's forehead start to make its descent down the outline of his face.

"Uh…"

Franks cocks his gun and raises a questioning eyebrow to the only person standing in his way, causing the man to jump and grab for his keys.

"Uh… no sir," he fumbles with the keys as he nervously tries to unlock the gate.

As soon as the key enters the lock and Frank hears the click that announces its opening, he barges through, pushing the man back, racing past him and into the crowded corridor. Mark and Eddie follow suit and run past the stunned attendee who slowly regains his composure as he watches the three lawmen make their way through the mobs of patients. The distant whispers of the unfortunates begin to rise as the drawn guns send some into a state of panic. Their screams and attempts to flee overwhelm the hospital staff as attendees work to calm the patients and draw them into the cramped rooms on either side.

Eddie and Mark watch as Frank systematically pushes through the hoard, his focus blinded to the chaos ensuing all around him. Following closely in his wake, they finally make it to the last obstacle, the barred door that keeps the truly dangerous isolated in their individual cells. Banging on the door, a scream from just beyond, in the bowels of the building, pierces their hearts and sends Frank into a frantic rage. He begins kicking the door in an effort to somehow break open the iron lock, all the while searching the hall for any signs of life.

A shadow to his right catches his eye, and he sees movement coming out of a side room and someone running toward the door, keys jingling in his hands. The attendee immediately begins to unlock the door without even acknowledging the men on the other side.

"Hurry! It's Dr. Stancliffe! He's gone mad!" he screams breathlessly.

Needing no encouragement, the men burst through and directly head to the small cell Frank had visited only a few days ago. As they breach the entrance, they see Dr. Stancliffe holding the hair of the young girl, trying to force her head back as she screams and fights against him. In his other hand, he holds a glass of clear liquid. So determined is he on his goal, Dr. Stancliffe doesn't notice the three men now standing behind witnessing his cruelty on the child he only an hour ago claimed to care about so deeply.

"Let her go," Franks calmly demands, hoping the click of the gun's hammer will be enough to stop the deranged man.

Turning abruptly, Dr. Stancliffe eyes widen at the sight of the three lawmen there to witness his fall from grace. Looking back at the girl he has pinned into a corner as he tried to shove her head back and force the poisoned laced liquid down her throat, he can see the depths of the trauma in the corners of her eyes. Unhinging his fingers from her tangled hair, he looks back to the men, his eyes filling with regret at what he allowed himself to become.

Raising his arms slightly in an act of surrender, he watches closely as Frank moves to reholster his gun and remove from his belt a pair of handcuffs he carries. There is no escaping the punishment for his greed, for his abhorrent need for recognition, he can see that now.

"I'm sorry, Molly," he says, his voice laden with shame, "Forgive my weakness," he whispers, and without hesitation, he downs the liquid in the glass allowing the cyanide to do its bidding.

Knowing there's nothing he can do for the doctor, Frank quickly steps over the man and lifts Molly into his arms, not wanting the already traumatized girl to witness the brutal death, he carries her into the hall.

"You came back," she chokes out as she lays her head on his shoulder, "You believe me," She cries.


	37. Chapter 37

Frank leans heavily against the wall as he listens to the excited voices, filled with both joy and sorrow, coming from the room on the other side. Glancing up at the scowl that adorns the face of the superintendent standing across from him, he can't help but smile. He won't apologize for following his heart and taking the girl straight to her parents, she has suffered enough at the hands of this institution and he refuses to be a part of anymore needless heartache. He made a decision as he carried her in his arms up from the basement, protocol be damned, he is putting an end to this charade right now. It is going to be hard enough for the young girl to recover a sense of normalcy once she is free to go home again without forcing her to go through the failed bureaucracy to be reunited with her folks.

Looking over to the two deputies, who just returned from taking the body of Dr. Stancliffe up to the hospital morgue, he senses their resolve to also protect this girl at all cost. He knows that just like him they are eagerly waiting for Molly to explain how she came to be locked away in the basement of a mental institution at the young age of only thirteen. Taking in a deep breath, Frank turns his eyes toward the ceiling and lays his head against the wall, he is pretty sure that most of the men who are responsible for this unthinkable act are now dead but even so he plans to keep guards on the Dowlins until he knows they are safe. This is a responsibility he plans to entrust to the two deputies standing beside him knowing that they are just as invested as he is with the girl's future.

The sounds of the door opening draw him out of his contemplations and he watches as Mr. Dowlin walks over to him and without a second thought grabs him by the arm pulling him unashamedly into an embrace. The words thank you ring out in Frank's ear as he sees Mrs. Dowlin heading over toward her husband, who let's go so that she can replace him by wrapping her own arms around the man who returned her lost child. No words pass through her lips as she holds on to him, but her tears, wetting the top of his shoulder, speak volumes. Gradually, releasing her hold she looks straight into his eyes and smiles before wiping away the remnants of her tears. Slightly embarrassed by the warmth in their gratitude, all Frank can do is smile back and give a quick nod of acceptance.

"Molly is asking for you," Mr. Dowlin says, motioning for Frank to follow him into the room.

Eddie, Mark, and Dr. Shurtleff all make to follow the group as they head into the family waiting room where Molly and Judge Keagan are patiently waiting. As they enter, the Dowlins head toward Molly, who is still dressed in the drab sack given to her by the basement staff, her hair has been smoothed down and her eyes are red from the tears she continues to shed. They take seats beside her while Frank sits in the chair directly in front of her and to the side of the judge, and the others take seats in the back of the room. At the sight of the superintendent, the look of terror that flies across the girl's eyes is not lost on anyone and causes the hardened man to falter. The judge glances back at the doctor, his anger clear, he will have a few words with the board of the hospital once they were done here.

Still staring at Dr. Shurtleff, Judge Keagan begins the preceding, "While it is abundantly clear that this child is Molly Dowlin and not Sissy Allen, I want the details of her confinement to be recorded clearly so that there are no questions upon her release. I have asked deputy Edward Craver to act as the court stenographer and once I return to my office an official release will be processed."

He pauses momentarily to see if there are any objections from those in the room before he continues in a delicate voice speaking directly to the girl, "Now Molly, will you tell Frank what happened?"

The girl looks toward both her parents, who instantly reach out and grab one of their daughter's hands, letting her know they are really there with her. She looks up at Frank, who once again is thrown by the depth he sees in the young eyes, a depth that in many ways remind him of a young man that used to be his deputy. He smiles at her and sees the tears that line her eyes as she takes in a calming breath before she begins.

"You want to know about Martha?" she asks him, to which Frank nods. Molly tightens her grip on her parents' hands before she continues, "I told her about what happened to me, how I got here, and she said she would help me. She," she looks down as a rosy color creeps up her ears, "was 'special' friends with Dr. Tilden and said she would make him listen to her. BUT SHE LIED!" she screams, startling everyone.

"I know she did, Molly," Frank soothes, giving the girl a moment to collect herself. He remembers the outburst she had when he first met her down in the basement and concludes, from the look on her parents' faces, that these outbursts probably started while she was held here.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

She nods and then looks to back and forth from each parent as renewed tears begin to pour down her face.

"I'm sorry," she cries, "Why didn't I listen? I knew better, you told me not to go that way. Why didn't I listen?" she bawls as her mother takes her in her arms.

"It's ok, sweetheart. We're here now and everything is going to be ok," Mrs. Dowlins pours her love over her daughter, "The Marshal only wants to help, you can tell him."

They all wait patiently as the young girl collects herself. She leans further into her mother for support as she begins again, "I was coming home from school. I had left late because Betsy was showing me and the other girls the ribbons her daddy had gotten from San Francisco. They were so pretty," her thoughts wander for a second, "It was pretty late and I knew I was never gonna make it home in time to watch the twins like you needed me to so I decided to take the shortcut across the Miller's farm."

Tears begin to well in her eyes again and her mother squeezes her tightly as tears also fall down her face. Mrs. Dowlin begins rubbing her daughter's arm, feeling the trembling happening underneath her hold.

"I know you told me never to go that way," she cries, "but I knew I would be in trouble if I was late." She takes in a deep breath, "I made it to the alley when I saw them. Two men arguing, one older, one younger, and I froze," she looks over to her father, "Why didn't I run, Papa? Why?" her tears flow afresh as do those lining the rim of her father's eyes.

"Did you know these men," Frank encourages, as she begins to be composed, he offers her a handkerchief.

"Not then, but... I did later on," Molly answers looking directly at him, taking the offered cloth, she daps her eyes.

"Who were they, Molly? Who did this to you?" Franks asks leaning forward trying to prepare himself for the answer.

Molly glances nervously around the room. She has only told two people who took away her freedom and they both betrayed her.

"You can trust us, Molly," Frank says, seeing her discomfort.

"I know," she whispers and takes in a deep breath, "The older man was George Tyrone and the younger man was his son Buddy."

"Buddy?" Franks blurts out in disbelief as the implications of the junior Tyrone being involved start to play out in his mind. He has suspected that George Tyrone had something to do with it considering his name is on the order, but Buddy? He hasn't considered him at all. He rubs his hands on his pant leg wiping off the accumulating sweat, Buddy is currently in Stockton which means whatever is going on has something to do with him. At that moment, Frank knows he has to get back and warn Heath, warn the Barkleys. He looks over at the judge, who picks up on his distress and continues on with the questioning, while he composes himself not wanting to scare the girl.

"Did you hear what they were arguing about," Judge Keagan inquires.

Molly nods her head, "Some of it. I heard the name, Mr. Barkley. Then Mr. Tyrone told Buddy to stay away from the Barkleys. He laughed at him and said he worried too much, that no one's gonna know it was him, so his precious career as a judge was safe. Mr. Tyrone seemed upset by this and told his son he needed help. Then Buddy got really mad, he walked away for a second and when he came back he was dragging something, saying look at what he had done just to protect his father's career."

"I screamed," she cries, her face glistening in the streaks of her tears, "If only I had kept quiet. Why didn't I keep quiet?"

She pauses and begins trembling again, gently Frank leans forward and as calm as possible asks, "What was he dragging, Molly?"

"A body, he was dragging a body," she leans into her mom and buries her face, turning slightly so the other's can still hear her, "he said he killed her because she found out his plan for Mr. Barkley. He said that this was the length he would go to protect his father."

"And they heard your scream," Frank asks, his own fear rising as he learns more about what Buddy is willing to do.

She nods, "I tried to run, but I wasn't fast enough. I thought…," she blurts out, her breath coming in gasps, "I thought… they were going to kill me... but somehow Mr. Tyrone stopped Buddy. He… he said… I was just a child. They… they gagged me… took me to their home and made me drink something. When I woke up I was here, they kept calling me Sissy. I tried to tell them who I was but no one would listen to me."

"Did you ever see the Tyrones again?" Frank delicately asks, knowing that Molly has reached her limit of endurance as he sees the exhaustion in the slump of her shoulders.

She shakes her head, "Never."

"And that is everything you told Martha Simmons?"

She nods, "Yes, sir."

He smiles at her, "Thank you, Molly. You are an incredibly brave strong girl to have survived what you have." Turning to the other men, he motions for them to leave the room. "Why don't we give this family some time alone."

"I couldn't agree more," Judge Keagan says as he rises from the chair. Turning to the Dowlins, he continues, "I am truly sorry for the hardship your family has endured and we will have you home as soon as possible. We will also make sure that those responsible for this egregious act are brought to justice."

The judge shakes Mr. Dowlin's hand, as does Frank, and then the group departs, leaving the family huddled together taking in the sight of each other and allowing their hope to fill the room.

* * *

He is losing track of time as the man who correctly blames him for the death of his colleagues takes out his grievances on his unprotected body. His labored breathing from the ribs he felt snap only moments ago, stop him from crying out and for this he is thankful. He doesn't want to add his voice to the horrendous taunts coming from the man tormenting him. Instead, he tries to escape into the corners of his mind, a trick he learned in Caterson. He knows that it is a dangerous game to play but at this point, he doesn't even care if he gets stuck there, as there really isn't anything worth fighting for anymore.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" a groggy voice screams. Heath recognizes the voice as belonging to his brother Gene, which forces him to pull himself back to the present.

Gene is here, trapped in this prison with him, he tries to turn his head so his right eye can see his brother. He hears the voice of his tormentor moving away and fears that his brother's outburst has turned this man's attention towards him. The last thing he wants is for Gene to be hurt because of him. Wanting to call out to stop the man from hurting Gene, he lifts his head and opens his mouth but the only sound to emerge is a garbled whisper as he doesn't have the strength to speak.

"Well, well, look who else decided to finally wake up," Jed teases Gene, "Nice of you to join us. Me and the boy here are just having some fun!"

Heath feels Jed's fingers grab a handful of hair and yank his head back.

"Ain't that right, BOY!" he laughs.

"I said, leave him alone," Gene demands, but it only causes Jed to laugh.

Releasing Heath's head with a push forward, Jed walks over to Gene and stares into the determined eyes. The defiance he sees glaring back at him makes him smile all the more.

"Don't worry Barkley," Jed remarks, as he grabs Gene around the neck, "You'll get yours as well, just got to wait your turn."

Mustering all the energy he can, Heath finally sets his eye on Gene and seeing Jed wrap his fingers around Gene's throat, sends a blinding rage rippling through him.

"No!" he calls, his voice a raspy whisper, "Leave him...be."

Taken aback, Jed can't help but be impressed. Here is this boy, hanging by his wrists, beat to hell, and still somehow he thinks he can defy him. Letting go of Gene, he cracks his knuckles as he starts to walk back over to Heath determined to either teach the boy some manners or kill him, whichever happens first.

"That'll be enough Jed," a voice descends from the staircase, sending waves of fear wrapping around Heath's heart. It is a voice Heath hoped he would never hear again, "You've had your fun and I believe he was my payment."

Growling slightly as his entertainment is being put to an end, Jed punches Heath one more time for good measure, leaving the stricken man struggling to catch his breath. Then, just as he starts to head toward the stairs he stops abruptly and turns back to face the two captives, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"See you later boys," he smirks, "Barrett and I got a date with your loudmouth brother. I hope he's as much fun as you two have been," he turns and runs up the stairs before either brother can answer.

Matt watches him go and then turns back to face Heath, who is still trying to catch his breath.

"Who are you?" Gene demands, pulling on the cuff attached to his wrist. The cuff is connected to a chain about three feet in length that is attached to an anchor in the wall behind him. Stretching it forward he tries to see how close he can get to Heath, but curses when he realizes he is unable to help his brother.

"Heath knows who I am," Matt replies, now standing directly in front of Heath. He can see the fear in the boy's eye and is filled with delight that even after all these years the boy is still afraid of him. He has waited a long time to get his revenge and he plans to make this boy suffer for all the pain and destruction he caused. "Don't ya, boy?"

As Matt's face comes into focus Heath does his best to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He is trapped in his worst nightmare, caged in a prison of their making. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, the almost numbing feeling creeping up his battered body and into his throat ready to devour him. It is the same paralyzing fear that plagued him as a child, that crept into his nightmares, that left him feeling helpless. He tries to hide it but the knowing smile plastered on Matt's face tells him he is failing miserably. Just when he feels it can't get any worse, the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the preceding voice sends his body into spasms as he tries to contain the bile rising in his throat.

"Matt, darling," Martha calls out as she makes her way into the dark room, her arms behind her back, "How are our guests?" she asks, her voice full of fake pleasantries, she brings her arms around to the front and proudly displays the bowie knife in her fingers. "Is Heath ready to have some fun?"


	38. Chapter 38

"NICK!" Jim yells as he pulls up beside the impatient younger man. He can see the fear and single-mindedness in the hazel eyes and knows all too well the need to continue on when your loved ones are in danger. Reaching over he places his hand on top of the black-gloved hands tightly squeezing Coco's reins and tries to break through the iron grit of determination he can see coursing through the frame of the rancher.

"I know you want to find them. I get it," he pauses, waiting for Nick to acknowledge him, "but we can't follow the trail in the dark."

He watches as the arguments for and against play out in the rancher's mind. He knows the worry and responsibility Nick feels for his mother and sister and he can't help feeling the same sense of urgency to find these two women. Still, the sun set over thirty minutes ago and if they continue riding on blindly there is no way to know where they may end up or how far off the trail they will have gotten. That is not going to help anyone, especially not Audra and Mrs. Barkley.

"Come on, Nick," Jim encourages as he pats the man on the shoulder, "Let's go help set up camp and we'll leave at first light."

Not expecting a response, Jim removes his hand and turns his horse around to go back and meet the others who smartly decided to stay back while Jim worked to calm the irate man. They all know Nick Barkley will move heaven and earth to protect his family and that anyone standing in his way will be plowed over without hesitation. It's a truth they witnessed earlier when the explosion that is Nick Barkley, reared its ugly head at Jim who had the audacity to suggest stopping for the night once the sun began to set and the light dimmed to nothing more than silver streaks of a half moon. Jim had paid him no mind as a budding respect for the rancher has been growing since they left the ranch, so the men backed away and allowed him to talk some sense into Nick.

Dismounting, Jim looks back toward the lone figure sitting upon his steed staring out into the yonder and he feels a pang of remorse that he isn't able to move them ahead faster, to get them to their goal. Shaking away the thoughts, he looks up to see Fred walking over toward him carrying a cup of coffee fresh from the newly erected campsite and fire. Taking the offered cup, he takes a sip as he continues to stare at the back of Nick, hoping the devoted son will come to his senses and fall back until morning.

"He's a good man," Fred says plainly motioning toward Nick, "a little misguided at times, but a good man nonetheless."

"Yeah, I can tell," Jim smiles, "kinda reminds me of another young man I know. Just as stubborn."

"Barkley blood, I suppose," Fred concludes knowingly, which makes Jim laugh and nod in agreement before his face turns somber once more.

"Something else bothering ya?" Fred asks.

"They're leading us," Jim says plainly, "wasn't so sure until the last turn taking us back toward Stockton."

"Ambush?" Fred asks trying to scan the area in the dim moonlight.

'I'm guessing," Jim rubs a hand over his eyes before he continues, "best get prepared, it's going to be a long night," he says gravely.

* * *

"Hurts, don't it boy," Matt chuckles, as he leans in allowing the reek of alcohol to assault Heath's already overloaded senses. He can feel the mixture of fear and pain emanating off the boy and takes delight in knowing that he is the cause.

By now, he figures, the boy's arms are on fire as his shoulders struggle against the pull of his weight. He notices that the bastard is already gasping, fighting for a way to get life-giving air into his lungs past his compromised chest. I'm sure the beating Jed gave him sped that up some. I wonder, what'd happen if I just left you hanging? He stalks around his prey and then looks over to meet the eyes of his loving wife, who is twirling the knife around in her fingers taking just as much pleasure as he is in the suffering of their curse.

"I learned this little game in prison, this hangin by the wrist." He looks up at the red lines sliding down Heath's arms as the iron cuffs rub away the skin underneath them. "Most men don't last that long, but ya sure are stubborn. Ain't ya?"

"LET HIM DOWN!" Gene cries out, begging helplessly, afraid he is about to watch his little brother's death.

Using every bit of strength he has, Gene twists his wrist in an attempt to get out of the cuff that holds him. Desperately trying to get to his brother, he pulls on the chain connecting him to the wall hoping, praying that somehow it will give way, that he will be free to put an end to their game. When nothing happens, he falls back watching in horror as the man walks over and smacks his little brother upside the head, forcing the barely breathing boy to look at him.

Grabbing Heath by the chin, Matt laughs as Heath tries to move his face away from the putrid smell of a rotting life that long ago doused itself in whiskey. Tightening his grip he locks eyes with his nephew, dreaming of his plan to make sure the last face the kid ever sees will be his because that will be justice. Yes, he will make the mongrel pay in blood for the wrath he brought upon them that destroyed their lives. He squeezes harder forcing the boy's one good eye to look upon him, yet even in the face of death, as their eyes meet, he sees the same recusant glare looking back at him, angering him. Backhanding the boy once more, he nods to Martha who gleefully walks over and unceremoniously slices through the rope suspending Heath in the air, causing him to land hard against the dirt floor. I got time to break you, boy.

Barely conscious, Heath feels a momentary reprieve until he lands hard against his right shoulder, sending tentacles of white pokers trailing through his arm and shoulder, momentarily blinding him to his surroundings. Unintentionally crying out, he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes as he tries to escape back to the corners of his mind only to have his body betray him and force him to take in gulps of the blessed, life-giving air that has been denied to him for so long. Resting his head back against the dirt, he tries to regulate his breathing, lying still as death, afraid of the pain any movement will cause. He knows this is only the beginning of what his aunt and uncle have in store for him and if it was only him he would walk into the safe haven of his mind and be free. But he's not, Gene is trapped down here with him and he refuses to let his brother face the horrors he brought upon his family alone.

Sensing movement near him, he slowly opens his right eye and sees his uncle kneeling down beside him, causing his whole body to tense. He swallows hard and tries to look away, over to where Gene continues to struggle against the chain that binds him to the wall. He can see the fury on his brother's face, fury for him, which fills him with warmth despite their current circumstances. Their eyes meet and he tries to give a small reassuring smile to his brother, letting him know he will stay in the present and do whatever he can to get them out of here. He watches as Gene pauses in his struggles and nods in solidarity filling Heath with the strength of knowing that his brother is near.

A shadow passing over him in the form of his uncle tears his gaze away from his brother as he looks up into the face of the man who has filled him with terror since he was only a small child. Bracing himself, trying to steady his breathing, he feels calloused hands grab onto his right bicep and flip him over on his stomach. He has no strength to fight, his limp chained arms refuse to obey his commands as those same hands lean down upon his triceps sending excruciating pain through his upper limbs. Slamming his eyes shut as he tries to hold back the unwelcomed tears, he hears his uncle laugh as he presses down even harder. Turning his head back toward Gene, he slowly opens his eyes and watches as his brother's fury is replaced with panic and he starts to fight against the chains once again.

"Stay away from him," Gene screams his voice dripping with venom.

Feeling the soft ruffle of fabric brush up against his right side, he tries to lift his head enough to see what his aunt is doing. It's not until he feels her soft fingers tracing the raised lines that crisscross his back that he begins to uncontrollably shiver, a sight that brings pure joy to his captors. His uncle is still holding down his arms, though, between the weight of his own body, the cuffs secure around his wrists, and the fact that the pain radiating through his limbs makes them completely useless, he knows he will not be able to do much to fight them off. He is just so tired. He looks back to Gene who is desperately trying to push the cuff off his wrists, to break free, to save them.

"Matthew darling," Martha calls as she straddles the young man, sitting down on his lower back, "it looks like someone has been adding to your work, dear."

Gene shoots a questioning look over to his brother, who is now breathing heavily, his one eye frantically trying to see what his aunt has planned for him.

"No surprise with his kind, the only way to keep'em in line."

"You know, Matt," Martha continues as if Matt had never spoken, "I hear when you get scars like this as a boy they have to be cut so you can grow properly," she takes the knife's edge and places it on the edge of one of his scars, feeling Heath instinctively try to move away from the cold steel causes her to squeal with excitement.

"Is that true, Heath?" she innocently asks as she runs the knife deep into Heath's skin and traces the line across his back.

They both take pleasure in watching Heath bite down on his lower lip trying to not to call out as the sharp edge splits open his skin. To her satisfaction, Martha can feel his breath quicken and his body tremble as he braces for her next attack.

Sitting up straighter, she exchanges smiles with Matt who leans forward adding pressure to Heath's arms, as she places the knife along the next one.

"I hear it hurts almost as bad as the whipping itself, is that true?" she asks as she runs across the next one, and then another until her eyes seem to glaze over as she concentrates on the task at hand.

"STOP IT!" Gene screams, over and over again until finally, Martha stands, holding the knife to her side allowing the blood, Heath's blood, to drip into the dirt below. He can feel the tears streaming down his face as he looks at his brother's bloody back. His fury returned, he stares at the waste of a man before him, "How can you do this? He's your nephew!"

"He ain't my nephew, ain't nothing but a bastard!" Matt yells, as he releases Heath's arms and leans back on his heels.

Reaching down he grabs the barely conscious boy by the arm, causing him to moan, and turns him onto his side, dragging him over to dump him against the basement wall. He looks up at Martha who is standing, still holding the bloody knife, staring in delight at the trembling incoherent boy.

Squatting down he grabs Heath's face and forces the boy to look at him, "No, you ain't my nephew, you're just the bastard who destroyed my sister's life. It's your fault she's dead. She worked herself to an early grave trying to take care of you. You brought nothing but shame to our family and I'm going to make sure you never hurt anyone else ever again."


	39. Chapter 39

Running his hands across the documents spread out over his desk, Jarrod tries to calm his racing mind as he searches for some clue he must have missed in the court papers strewn out in front of him. _There has to be some connection! Something that ties all of this together._ He lays his head down in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair before reaching over and picking up the glass of single-malt that he has been nursing for over an hour now. He swirls the liquid around in the tumbler hoping that the hypnotizing whirlwind motion will trigger something, anything that he might have overlooked before.

Setting the glass down, he reaches over and pulls out the medical report on the injuries the three boys sustained when Matt and Martha Simmons decided to place dynamite in their path in an attempt to kill their nephew. Of the three, Heath had been the most severely injured as he tried to shield the other two from the shrapnel flying at them. _Only twelve years old and you risk your life to save your friends._ He swells with pride and then cringes as he thinks about how close they came to never meeting their new little brother, the one that for the last few weeks they have all but ignored. _Not anymore, Heath, we are going to find you little brother and we are going to show you what it means to be a part of this family. Even your hotheaded loudmouthed Brother Nick has accepted you._

 _Damn. Nick_. He places the papers back on his desk and stands up from his chair stretching his back for a moment. The hard riding he had done to race back to the ranch, only to find he was too late, is wreaking havoc on his muscles and joints, making him feel like an old man. _Guess it's been a while since I have been on a horse for hours at a time._ Twisting his lower back one more time he straightens up and walks over to look out the window in the direction he knows his brother to be settling down for the night. Looking out into the darkness he is struck by a deep sense of longing, a need really, to ignore common sense and ride out. It's a feeling he has had since the doctor finished examining those that were found passed out, confirming the suspicion that it was sleeping powder that allowed Gene and Heath to be taken. As twilight turned to darkness and Howard finally took his leave, he knew it was too late. He and Alpha will have to wait until first light to be able to meet up with Nick and continue the search for the rest of the family.

A quiet knock on the door draws his attention away from the window. He turns and sees Alpha walking into the study. Motioning for Alpha to take a seat, he watches as the young man plops down in the chair directly in front of his desk. His concern for Heath is clearly evident in the incessant tapping of his right leg and the rubbing of his palms on his shirt. Grabbing his glass off the desk, Jarrod walks over to the drink cart and pours himself and Alpha some whiskey before walking back over and handing the boy the drink. He takes a seat in his chair and watches as the anxious young man downs the fiery liquid in one gulp.

"Whatcha looking at?" Alpha nods toward the papers spread all over the top of Jarrod's desk.

"The court documents from the Simmons' trials," Jarrod sighs. "I feel there is something I am missing, something that might explain how all this began."

"I'm sure it doesn't make for an easy read," Alpha frowns, leaning forward to set the glass on the desk.

"No, it certainly doesn't. I can't imagine someone trying to do that to their own nephew."

"Yeah, she's crazy and he is just evil. Hates life. Hates himself. Got lost in a bottle at some point." He puts his head back and takes in a deep breath, before he continues, "I mean I was just a kid, but the way it was told to me is that Martha was always a little off. I guess they had been trying for a while to have a child with no luck, then Leah turns up pregnant. Something snapped in Martha, I guess jealousy in some way. Matt started drinking more and by the time Heath was born they were telling anyone that would listen that he was the product of the devil."

"Is that why the town shunned him?"

"It didn't help! But no, the town was full of bigots. There were those that tried to help, like my ma and pa, but most people just didn't care."

"You're very fond of Heath," Jarrod states, with a smile.

"He saved my life. Twelve years old and he didn't even think twice about his own safety, just dove and pushed me and Teddy out the way." Alpha pauses for a moment as the memories pour over him and rubs a hand over his face. He looks up at Jarrod and smiles. "But even before that, I liked him. I'd catch him telling stories to the horses. He is a pretty good storyteller. I think he gets that from Hannah. Boy, can she weave a tale or two. After the accident, we spent time with him at Uncle Jim's. Pa had decided to leave Strawberry for Modesto and tried to get Heath and his little family to move with us but Leah wouldn't leave. Didn't see him too much after that until he signed on with Frank."

"Have you known Frank long?" Jarrod asks, as his mind categorizes all the information he is learning about his new sibling.

"Most my life," Alpha responds, while his gaze turns toward the windows as the past flashes through his mind. "My Uncle Jim and he have been friends for a while and my brother signed on with Frank as a deputy a few years before Heath did. He's a good man."

"He seems to be," Jarrod agrees, "and he seems to be rather taken with my little brother."

"That he is. They have a few good stories they can tell," Alpha laughs, though his merriment doesn't reach his eyes, which awakens Jarrod's curiosity as to the cause of his pain.

Storing away any further questions for another time, Jarrod glances back down at the papers and begins stacking them neatly inside the folder where they are being stored. Nothing he has read has given him any clue as to how Martha Simmons would have been able to convince his Uncle George to release her and nothing Alpha will be able to tell him will shed any further light on it as well. At this point, they might as well get some sleep so that they can be ready to leave first thing in the morning. Taking in a frustrated breath, he leans back in his desk chair and looks toward the ceiling when the squeaky sound of the knob on his study door echoes through the room and drawing his attention. _I need to get that oiled,_ he randomly thinks as he watches Buddy step into the room.

Noticing all eyes upon him, Buddy casually walks over toward the chair beside Alpha and delights in the concerned look in Jarrod's eyes. _This could not have gone any better. The bastard is stored away with Gene, Audra, and Aunt Victoria, and Nick is out following the trail. The only obstacle is this kid, Alpha, but I'm sure I can come up with something fun for him. He might even survive it, as long as he doesn't get in my way._ He gives Jarrod a small apologetic smile and sinks into the leather chair.

"Sorry to interrupt, just don't think I can sleep much more today," Buddy sheepishly addresses them, "I'm so sorry, Jarrod, about this afternoon."

"It's not your fault, Buddy. I'm glad to see you up," Jarrod smiles and tries to ease the boy's guilt, "In fact, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you could tell us exactly what happened. Anything that might help us to figure this out."

"Of course, anything I can do," Buddy looks away, distraught, "I just feel so guilty for not being able to do something."

"Did you see anyone?" Alpha asks, "Even just a glimpse of someone?"

"No, I'm sorry," Buddy looks up and allows a small mist to fill his eyes. He prides himself on his ability to look upset on a whim, an art that has proven very useful over the years. "Heath had fallen asleep and I went up to have coffee with Eugene. I even carried the service up after having Silas prepare it. I had him add some almond extract like a friend of mine recently showed me," his voiced chokes, "It's my fault Gene drank the coffee."

He looks over to Jarrod, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

"You didn't know what was in it," Jarrod calmly replies, wanting to ease the pain his friend his feeling.

"I know," Buddy nods then leans forward placing his elbows on his knees. In his most sincere voice, he continues, "it's just that I'd give anything to have those boys safe at home, where they belong."

* * *

A somber air engulfs the room's occupants as each man tries to absorb everything they had heard in the other room. In the time it has taken them to walk across the hall they have each tried to understand the actions of the man they once knew to be an honorable judge who always upheld the law. Faced with Molly's testimony they now must look at him as a desperate father who instead of ending his son's apparent bloodlust tried to clean away the path of destruction left in his wake. For Judge Keagan, his once trusted friend and colleague has become a stranger. Judge Tyrone was a man who had broken bread at his table, their families enjoyed holidays together. He wonders at his own ignorance or blindness, how he never noticed that something was off with his friend's son. He wonders where and how it all began, how much has been covered up over the years just to save face. Leaning heavily on Dr. Shurtleff's desk, Judge Keagan exhales loudly before straightening his shoulders and looking toward the other men in the room.

"How much danger do you think that girl in there is in?" the judge asks staring directly at Frank.

Frank looks over at the judge and then around the room, realizing that everyone is staring at him waiting for him to answer. His mind has also been preoccupied since walking back into the superintendent's office. Molly was safe, for now, but now they know there is a killer on the loose in Stockton and he is up to something that has to do with the Barkleys and apparently Heath. He can't seem to make sense out of the idea that Molly sharing her story with Martha, lead to Martha's release. _Wouldn't it have made more sense to leave her in a place where she can't tell anyone, and what does this have to do with Heath?_ His only clear thought is that he needs to get back to Stockton, warn the Barkleys, and try to figure out what is going on.

"Well, so far everyone except for Martha Simmons that knew Molly's story is dead, so I'd say she's in quite a bit of danger," he answers then looks over to Eddie and Mark. "I'm gonna need to leave the two of you in charge of the girl's safety."

"You got it, boss," Mark answers and Eddie gives a quick nod of his head in agreement, "we won't let anything happen to the girl."

"Good," Frank says as he looks around the room at all of them, his eyes lingering on the superintendent, who in his opinion, is being oddly quiet. "I don't think we should let anyone outside of this room know Molly's alive unless it is absolutely necessary. At least not until we have a better understanding of what we are dealing with."

He waits for them to confirm they agree before continuing, "I'll head back to Stockton, warn the Barkleys and talk with Fred about the girl they buried in Molly's stead. That might be the same body Molly saw Buddy dragging. I'll also ask about anything that might have happened three and a half years ago to the Barkleys that Buddy might have been talking about."

"Thomas Barkley died," Judge Keagan interrupts, "that happened a little over three years ago." The judge walks over from where he is standing and warily sinks himself into the closest chair. "My god," he breathes out in disbelief, "you don't think Buddy had anything to do with that? Do you? Tom Barkley was his godfather."

"Right now, Judge," Franks sympathetically replies, "I think that boy might have killed his own father, and if that is true, then I don't think he would have a problem killing just about anyone."


	40. Chapter 40

He watches as the rugged cowboy stares out over the darkened plain absently swirling his cold coffee around in the cup. The fire in front of them is weathering down to embers causing the moon's light to cast an eerie grey hue over the vast landscape before them. Reaching over he grabs a few sticks from the pile they gathered earlier and tosses it into the fire causing it to roar to life and erase the dim view from their eyes. The man beside him doesn't move or stop staring out into nothing, too lost in his own thoughts to care what is happening around him.

Jim understands. He doubts very much that he would be any different if it was his family taken against their will and being held somewhere out over the landscape before them. He looks over at Nick, before reaching over to grab the coffee pot to refill his cup and settle back into his seat leaning against his saddle, waiting. Taking a sip of the stale coffee, he glances up toward the sky and hopes Alpha and Jarrod arrived safely back at the ranch and that Heath is starting to recover from his run-in with the outlaws. Smiling, he tries to imagine their surprise when this scrawny kid got the better of them. _Heath always has been pretty resourceful,_ he laughs to himself before looking back over to Nick who has tossed his cold coffee on the ground and is letting the cup dangle from his fingers.

"We'll find them, Nick," Jim reassures, placing a hand on Nick's shoulder trying to pull the young man out of his contemplations.

"Yeah," Nick agrees solemnly, continuing to stare out into nothing. "I think we will, one way or the other."

He looks over to Jim who nods in agreement, then shifts slightly to lean more to the right and begins rubbing the metal cup between his fingers. It has been a long night for both of them, the sitting and waiting and expecting is enough to make even the most stoic man a bit antsy. Nick understands the need for the position they are in. The signs they were being led on the trail were clear, but it is leaving him too much time to think. For a while his thoughts are consumed by his worry for his mother and sister, but the longer they sit, the more time he has to think, his thoughts shift to the guilt he feels about what happened with his new brother.

"I was actually thinking about Heath," Nick confesses, looking down at his boots.

Jim glances over at the young rancher, his curiosity definitely peaked, but says nothing. Instead, he simply waits for Nick, who clearly has something he wants to discuss with him about Heath, to continue.

"I found a picture of our father and his mother in his bible," Nick rues, "along with a letter she wrote to our father telling him she was pregnant. She didn't know he was married."

Nick tosses his coffee cup to the ground and kicks the dirt with the tip of his boot, all the while looking out into the darkness. Jim can see that he is warring with something, something he needs to ask or needs to resolve.

"Why didn't he show those to us when he first came?" Nick seethes, his voice rising in volume.

"Would it have mattered?" Jim questions, keeping his voice calm, open.

"YES!" Nick yells and jumps up from his seat, "It was the kind of proof I needed! And if he had just shown them to us maybe I wouldn't have... wouldn't have," he stops, his voice wavering.

"Wouldn't have shot him?" Jim calmy questions, watching as Nick turns toward him, a desperation in his eye, a yearning to understand how he could do such a thing to his own brother.

"You think you would have been less angry? To know your father had another son, with a woman he fell in love with and made think they were going to get married. Don't look to place blame on Heath, you'd of been just as angry and still taken it out on that boy." Jim pauses letting that think in. "Heath didn't show you because he didn't want to hurt you all any more than he had to. He knew showing up, fulfilling his mama's wishes, was going to cause you all enough pain."

His cold stare causes Nick to look away.

"You need to talk with Heath, Nick. Settle this between the two of you and then let it go."

"I did. I asked him to forgive me, asked if we could start over." Nick hauls in a calming breath.

"And what did he say?" Jim asks, already knowing the answer. Heath is probably the most forgiving person he knows, but then he has had to be in order to stay afloat in an unfair world.

"That we could," Nick doubtfully responds. He stares at Jim looking for confirmation. He hates how vulnerable he feels, how the guilt is eating away at him. "Do you think he means it?"

Standing to meet Nick's eyes head on, Jim places a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiles.

"Heath doesn't say things he doesn't mean. If he said it then it's as good as done." He squeezes Nick's shoulder before dropping his hand back down to his side. He watches as his words to Nick sink in and gives the other man a small amount of peace. "It sounds more like you need to forgive yourself."

The sound of their horses moving diverts their attention before Nick has a chance to respond. Turning quickly, guns drawn, they are confronted with darkness as the roar of their fire impedes their eyes' ability to focus beyond their campsite in the moonlight. Slowly looking around they shift their position to gaze out ahead when the sound of a hammer being pulled back causes them both to freeze, and the hair on the back of their necks sends alarms pulsing through them. Bracing themselves for what may come next, Jim and Nick turn toward the sound of footsteps and watch as two men step out of the darkness, guns pointing directly them.

"Well looky what we have here," Jed laughs as he makes his way to stand in front of Jim and Nick, his toothy grin mocking them as he waves his gun in their faces. Beside him stands a young man about Gene's age, the gun aimed true in his shaky hand.

"So nice of you to keep the fire bright, like a lighthouse signaling in the dark. Now do be good boys and drop your weapons," he laughs as they comply with his request, "Larry, grab their guns."

Larry slowly walks over toward their captives, then carefully bends down retrieving their weapons and tossing them to the side.

BARRETT!" Jed yells, "get on over here and bring their lookout with you."

Nick and Jim tense as they watch Barrett step out of the darkness, pushing Joe in front of him, his gun leveled on the man's temple. Walking up to stand beside Jed, Barrett gives Joe a strong shove toward the fire causing the man to stumble into Nick who catches him.

"Sorry, boss, he came out of nowhere," Joe stammers apologetically.

"It's alright, Joe," Nick glares at Barrett causing his old employee to slightly cower, "What is it you want?" he asks, turning his gaze back to Jed, the apparent ringleader.

Sizing up the man in front of him, Jed can see the anger stirring in the hazel eyes, like a caged beast, needing to be forced into submission. Gladly accepting the challenge, he steps up in front of Nick trying to claim his dominance over the rancher, only to be met with a look so focused, so cold it would bury most men. Laughing, he lets out a small growl as he slams his fist hard into Nick's abdomen causing him to fall down on one knee and fight to catch his breath. Pausing, he stalks around Nick, before wrapping his hands around Nick's collar and yanking him back up to his feet, only to release a few more jabs into his gut causing the proud rancher to fall hard on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Backing away, satisfied with the lesson he delivered to the smug man, he waits for Nick to level out his breathing and look up to meet his glare.

"Well, Mr. Barkley," he spits out with disgust, "We want you, of course. Now, our employer wants you alive but I ain't made no promises if ya give me any trouble."

Barely able to contain his rage, knowing these are the men who took his mother and sister, Nick slowly makes his way back to his feet and glares at the man before him.

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice dripping with disdain, "and just who is this employer and what does he want with us?"

"To reunite you of course, with your family. We now have your mother, sister, and your younger brother."

"My younger brother?" Nick asks, trying to keep the fear in his voice under control.

"Yes," Jed gloats, he glances over to Barrett and the two exchange smiles before he turns back and continues, "While you all were galavanting we were able to grab the bastard and your little brother Gene, right out from underneath you."

"Heath," Jim queries, not wanting to believe it.

"Oh, yes," Jed licks his lips gleefully, "Boy was his aunt and uncle happy to see him," he laughs at the scowls that instantly appear on the two men's faces at the mention of the Simmons. "I even got to spend a little time with him, payback for killing my friends." He stares directly at Nick, "don't think you Barkleys are going to have to worry about that bastard for much longer."

At that moment Jed made his fatal mistake, he poked the bear. In a blind fury, Nick leaped at the larger man with the speed of a mountain lion, catching the taunting outlaw off guard and sending him down hard onto the ground. His gun, once tightly held in his right hand, falls off to the side as Nick unleashes his fury on Jed's face. Not exactly the signal they were waiting for but a signal none the less, Fred and Lee jump out from behind the cover of trees the darkness provided them and join in the fray, firing off a few rounds before Barrett or Larry has a chance to respond to the chaos.

Jim grabs Joe and pulls the other man down as he reaches under his saddle and grabs his rifle. Lying flat to the ground, he sets up a shot toward Barrett just as the other man takes aim at Fred. His aim is true and before Barrett can return fire on the lawman, he falls to the ground dead. As he reloads he watches as Larry, lying on his stomach, tries to inch away from the scene while firing aimlessly at Fred and Lee. For a moment he feels sorry for the young kid who is obviously in over his head, as he is no match for either Fred or Lee, who quickly end the battle as one of their bullets stops the kid's apparent escape attempt.

Setting his next shot toward Jed, Jim watches as Nick continues to have the upper hand on the cocky man, who is getting in a few shots but for the most part is on the defensive. _Remind me never to mess with that boy's family._ Standing up, he and Joe keep an eye on the fight while Fred and Lee double check that Barrett and Larry will not be causing any more trouble. After a few minutes of watching the two men tumble around pounding their fist into each other, Jim decides it needs to come to an end. Picking up his handgun from where it had been tossed, he fires one shot into the air to get the men's attention and then yanks Nick off of Jed while keeping his revolver pointed at the outlaw's face.

Not appreciating been pulled away from the source of his fury, Nick instinctively lashes out at the hand pulling him back causing Jim to briefly look away from Jed, who uses the moment to garnish the hunting knife he keeps strapped to his side. With speed belying his prone position, he fiercely plunges the knife toward Nick's unprotected waist. A single shot rings out causing Nick and Jim to turn and watch as Jed's eyes to go wide and his arm to loses momentum as he falls back onto the ground gasping for breath. Sending a thanks to Joe who is holding the smoking gun that just saved his life, Nick bends down and grabs Jed around the shirt collar pulling the man forward until his eyes focus on his face.

"Where are you keeping them?" Nick yells, shaking the dying man. "Tell me where they are!" he screams at Jed who laughs until he begins choking on his own blood and his eyes go dark.

"DAMMIT!" Nick throws the dead man back onto the ground and stands to look over at the other men. "All dead?"

"The kid's alive, just grazed his head but I don't think he'll be awake for a while. I'll need to get him to a doctor," Fred answers. "Barrett's dead."

Nick takes in a deep breath and looks at the lifeless form by his feet. He had hoped that they would at least have one prisoner that could guide them to where his family is being held. Looking up at Jim, he can tell the other man can sense his thoughts and almost instantly Jim reaches over and pats Nick on the back.

"Sun's almost up, we still got the trail," Jim reassures him, "we'll find them, Nick."


	41. Chapter 41

He has listened to the quiet sounds of the occasional whimper from his little brother but each time he calls his name, he gets no response, sending fear trickling through him. _Come'on Heath, you gotta be ok. Please be ok. They're coming for us. I promise you, Nick and Jarrod will find us. Please hurry, big brothers._ He looks up to the small window far above him and wishes that the dim light of the moon would soon give way to the bright light of the sun so that he could see across the room, see Heath, and let him know he is here with him. He knows it has been hours since he helplessly witnessed the horrific treatment his brother endured at the hands of both Jed and the Simmons. He has tried desperately to free himself from the shackle tight around his wrist but he has only managed to rub the skin raw underneath.

"Heath," Gene calls out, waiting for a moment to see if he will get a response, but again, nothing. "Can you hear me, little brother? Just hold on, okay. Nick and Jarrod will find us. I promise you."

He leans his head back against the cement wall, pulling his knees up to his chest as he tries to think of anything he might be able to do to help Heath. He realizes he should try to sleep but each time he closes his eyes all he sees is the horrible vision of that deranged woman slicing into Heath's back. He shudders at the memory. _How can someone do something like that to another person?_ He thinks about the fear he saw in Heath's eyes the day Jim told him they were free. He remembers not understanding Heath's reaction. _I was so wrong, little brother. I'm so sorry,_ he thinks as he looks up toward the window and decides the grey sky has lightened slightly announcing the coming of a new day, giving him hope.

The sound of a lock clicking and the doorknob turning has Gene on his feet in an instance. He is not sure how, but somehow he has to stop them from unleashing their demented minds on his brother. He readies himself as he sees three pairs of feet making their way down the stairs. A lantern lighting their way spreads light into the dark room and for the first time in hours Gene is able to see Heath, lying just as his uncle left him with his back against the wall. His eyes are closed and except for the occasional shiver he lays as still as death.

"Oh good, you're awake," Martha steps in front of him, blocking Heath from his view. "Your mother will be down in a few hours," she watches his shoulders tense at this news, "and I thought you might like to freshen up before she gets here. Maybe have some breakfast."

She motions to Matt who steps forward with a basin of water, a clean towel, and a glass. He sets the items down in front of Gene and then heads back up the stairs. She then motions to Clay who steps up beside her, his gun steady in his hand and pointed directly at Gene.

"Please, don't make a fuss," she smiles as she follows Gene's gaze toward the gun. "I currently have two offers on the table and as a businesswoman, I am trying to see which will be most profitable. I am hoping your mother is willing to work out an arrangement that will meet all of our needs."

"And what about Heath?" he asks, almost smiling as he begins to see a way he may be able to help his brother.

Glancing over her shoulder, he sees a smile spread across her face as she looks over, almost seductively, at the destruction she caused.

"What about him?" she frowns.

"Well, if I know my mother, as I do, she'll want to check on Heath and seeing him like that will upset her." He pauses for a moment giving her a chance to react. When she does nothing but continue to stare at Heath, he continues, "now, if I could clean him up a little bit, see to his wounds, I am sure it would help my mother to be in a more amiable mood."

She looks back at him and knows he is probably right. _Damn, rich people and their charity cases. Not that we will let her take him but it might help her to leave with her real children._

"Fine," she smiles, "I'll have Matt bring down an extra towel."

"And some soap or alcohol?"

"Not for the likes of him," she spits out with disgust as if she can't believe Gene would dare make such a request.

Desperate, seeing a chill run through Heath's body, knowing he must be feverish and water is not enough to clean his wounds properly, he racks his brain for some alternative she may not be opposed to.

"Vinegar!" he blurts out.

'Vinegar?" she questions. _Perhaps this Barkley has a dark side after all._ "I do believe we have some vinegar upstairs. I'll have Matt bring that as well."

Motioning again to Clay, he steps up beside Gene and places the gun into his lower back, as Martha reaches into her pocket and pulls out a key. Unlocking the shackle on Gene's wrist she steps back quickly, as the chain falls to the ground. He dares not move until the gun has been removed from his back, though his first instinct is run to his brother. Slowly she turns and heads over to Heath. Bending down in front of him, she grabs the shackles around his wrist, causing the boy to cry out in pain. Instinctively Gene moves, only to feel the hard steel of Clay's revolver press firmly against his skin. Holding himself steady, he watches as Martha unlocks Heath's wrists, yanks the shackles off him, and then turns to head back up the stairs. As Clay backs away from him, he wastes no time covering the few feet between him and his brother. Kneeling down he buries the lump in his throat as he takes in all of Heath's injuries.

The first thing he notices is the deformity of his right shoulder, the sharp edge instead of a normal smooth rounded edge. _Definitely, dislocated._ _His arm would have been useless and the pain almost unbearable from this injury alone._ _No wonder he was so still all night._ He shakes his head and takes in a steadying breath as he continues to catalog the rest of his little brother's maladies. His back is up against the wall, but Gene doesn't need to see it to know the condition it is in, but he does notice the fresh blood on the bandage secure around Heath's thin waist. _Damn._ His wrists are raw and bloody, he's fevered, his breathing is labored, and chills are causing him to convulse. They need to get Heath out of here and to a doctor fast.

He bows his head to calm himself and then bends down, very gently running his fingers through Heath's hair. "Heath, hey little brother, it's Gene. Do you think you can open your eyes?"

He waits, nothing.

"Heath, I need to reset your shoulder and to do that I am going to need to sit you up." He feels Heath's forehead and can feel the heat radiating off his skin. "Okay, Heath?"

He waits and this time he sees a slight nod.

"Okay, good. Ready?" He asks but doesn't wait for a response as he very gently places his arm under Heath's left side and begins to slowly lift him off the ground to a seated position against the wall. As he moves him, Heath's jaw clenches and a small sob escapes his lips along with fresh tears upon his face as he is too exhausted to try to stop them.

"I know it hurts and I'm sorry but once we get it reset it should feel a little better," Gene says as he reaches up and cups Heath's face, wiping away the tears of pain but leaving his own falling down his cheeks. "Now, I need you to try to relax, it will help the muscles allow the shoulder to move back into place."

Moving to the right side of the now sitting boy, he picks up Heath's right hand and bends the arm to just level with the elbow. He can see Heath's breathing picking up again and involuntarily tense in anticipation of more pain.

"Heath, I'm going to tell you a story and I want you to try to concentrate on my voice. Okay, little brother," Gene pauses until he sees a nod and two light blue slits watching him. "Okay," he grabs Heath's right elbow with his left hand and clasps their right hands together.

"I'm guessing you are wondering how I know how to do this. Well, when I first started school I was going to be a lawyer, just like Jarrod." He moves Heath's forearm externally very slowly. "I was so excited and all Jarrod talked about was us going into practice together. Barkley and Barkley, Attorneys at Law, he would say whenever I was home."

He moves the arm just a little more. "Then last summer, he helped me land a clerk position for a high profile judge in San Francisco. I was so excited."

He moves the arm a little more, then looks up and sees the blue slits watching him intently, fresh tears on the boy's face. He can tell Heath is making a valiant effort to control his breathing.

"I have never worked harder, Heath. It was an amazing opportunity and I learned so much about the law... too much in fact." He continues the story, all the while moving the arm externally very slowly, pausing between each move to allow the muscle spasms to relax. "See the truth is...well, I hated it. I hated it so much. I got back to school and felt so lost. Like I had disappointed the whole family, especially Jarrod. I didn't know what I should I do. Then one day I was wandering around the city and I saw a small boy playing in the street. He couldn't have been more than five or six. He was just having fun bouncing a ball on the ground when out of nowhere came a riderless horse barreling down on him."

"I screamed and ran to help, getting to the boy before anyone else. The kid was unconscious and bleeding and I had no idea what to do. I've never felt so helpless. Luckily, a doc was nearby and jumped into action saving the boy's life. I realized then, I never wanted to feel that helpless again so I went back to school and applied to join the medical program. I was able to start this last semester." He finishes his story just as he sees the head of the humerus slide back into place causing Heath to cry out and draw his knees toward his chest. Gently laying the arm over Heath's stomach, he holds it still while the blond works to calm himself.

"I don't know much, yet," he smiles at the grateful exhausted eyes looking back at him. "But this we covered the week before I left for summer vacation."

Shifting his weight, Gene looks down at the ground before he nervously states, "Heath, I haven't told the family, yet. I'm not quite sure how to tell Jarrod."

"Just.. tell him," Heath whispers, his voice weak, barely audible. "Brother… happy for you."

"You think? Well, then when he gets here I will," he smiles, "Alright, keep this arm still and let me check the other shoulder."

Gene doesn't miss Heath automatically brace himself as he gently runs his fingers over the left shoulder making sure nothing feels out of the ordinary. There was no obvious deformity on this side but with the way Heath had been hanging, he just wants to be sure. As he moves slowly over the shoulder, even his slight touch seems to send tremors of pain rippling through the boy's body. _Maybe it's bruised?_ Sitting up, he looks over his brother's bruised torso and decides to leave that for once they are out of here.

"Heath, do you trust me?"

He glances up toward the stairs, knowing he doesn't have much time before she returns. He watches as the blue slits reappear.

"Yeah… trust ya." Heath whispers, barely able to say those three words as it seems to take away all his strength.

"You're running a fever Heath which leads me to think something is getting infected. I'd guess it's the bullet wound since it's been reinjured now three times but until we can get you to a doctor we won't be able to do too much about that. The only thing I can do is try to clean everything."

He sees Heath shiver and nod his head letting him know he understands. Before he continues, Gene gets up and heads over to the basin of water and picks up the cup Matt left beside it. Dipping the cup in, he brings it over and has Heath take a few sips.

"I asked her to bring down vinegar so I can clean your wounds with it." He watches as the blue slits open a little wider. "I know, but one of my professors swears by it. Says it saved his whole family during a cholera outbreak and since she won't let me use anything else or cover anything with bandages I figure it's the best thing I can use until we get out of here."

"It's gonna sting worse than alcohol and I'm so," his voice cracks a little, "...so sorry, Heath."

"I… trust ya," Heath whispers, reaching a shaking left hand out to Gene, which he instantly takes a hold of and squeezes tight.

"You just hold on little brother, okay. Our big brothers will be here soon!"


	42. Chapter 42

He looks down at the blond head resting on his thigh and can't help but place a hand on the bare chest finding comfort in its rise and fall, thankful for small miracles. Gently moving his elbow to rest lightly on the boy's right hip, he shifts his right hand slightly in Heath's grip as he continues to try to alleviate some of the weight from the newly reapplied manacles on Heath's injured shoulder. Taking his other hand off the boy's chest and moving it to his forehead he sighs in relief at the slightly cooler temperature he feels emanating from the young man.

 _At least it seems to be helping some,_ he thinks as he lies his head back against the basement wall and tries to wipe from his mind the gut-wrenching memories from the last hour. Memories of the intoxicated grin plastered on Martha's face as she withheld water and eagerly watched him pour vinegar on the lacerations on his brother's back. Memories of his little brother crying out, clenching his teeth together, and arching his back as he tried desperately to escape the scorching burn the disinfectant caused. He will never forget or forgive her giddy school girl laughter as she watched the boy in his arms, gasping for breaths of air trying to find strength until he finally passed out from the pain once the vinegar was applied to the obviously infected wound on Heath's right side. No, he will never forget the cruelty he witnessed by the two demented psychotic creatures that have them trapped here in this basement and some way or another he will make them pay.

Shifting his weight slightly he looks up toward the staircase and wonders when they will be bringing his mother down to see them, childishly longing to have her near and for her to tell him it is going to be alright. His life to this point has been relatively calm and peaceful, as his age and status has gifted him certain protections that have, for the most part, sheltered him from the violent nature of the west. Not that he has been untouched, the death of his father at the hands of the railroad altered his existence and opened his eyes to the darker side of humanity. But even then, with his father's death, he was able to wrap that cruelty inside the package of a greedy corporation. It is not the same as what he has witnessed in the last twelve hours, the sadistic, vindictive, merciless viciousness of individuals upon his helpless brother.

A quiet moan draws his attention back to Heath and he runs his fingers through the sweaty blond hair trying to bring some comfort to the hurting, feverish boy. He knows he must be thirsty and wishes he had thought to fight harder for the water to be left but didn't want to risk what they had already agreed upon. It was with just a small amount of cleverness that he was able to keep himself unshackled and be allowed to sit with Heath until his mother came. He runs his fingers through the blond locks once more, as his mother has done to him many times before when he is sick or injured. _Try to sleep, Heath. Our brothers are coming._

The sharp high pitched sound of weathered hinges being forced to open against the hold of age causes him to involuntarily stiffen, shaking the boy on his lap enough to cause Heath's one good eye to slightly open. A stifled groan escapes the blond's lips, as they both hear the distinct sound of footsteps beginning the descent into the basement. Heath shifts slightly to look up at Gene, though he regrets the action almost immediately as it awakens the pain that has been lying dormant for the last couple of hours. Groaning he sinks his head back into Gene's thigh as a chill courses through him causing him to pull his knees up toward his chest to try and contain his warmth. Taking in a few shallow breaths he feels Gene run his fingers through his hair trying to soothe him just as a voice from his past invades their space and sends his mind racing backward in time. Shaking he inadvertently grips Gene's hand a little tighter looking for anything to keep him in the present and not allow his mind to wander down the dark path of his childhood.

"Well, ain't this sweet," Martha mocks, her voice bitter.

She glides down into the space before the two men against the wall and then bends down running her eyes over the pair, happy so far with the condition the mongrel is in. Reaching out she lays her hand on Heath's cheek, causing his eye to flutter open and then his body to reflexively retreat from her touch. Gasping he tries to control the pain the movement caused not wanting to allow her to know what she has done to him, an effort that only deepens the satisfaction he sees in her eyes. Standing slowly, she takes a step to the side and motions to Victoria, who is coming down the stairs, to step closer.

As she moves closer, she resists the urge to react to the horror she feels at the sight of her sons, _yes, her two sons_ , lying on the ground. Her frame instinctively stiffens and her jaw tightens as she tries to conceal her rage and hide any overt amount of emotion at the sight before her. Gracefully she takes a step forward, making sure to match Martha's glare, before kneeling down in front of the boys, taking in the sight of them. Gene is sitting with his back against the wall legs straight out, with Heath resting his head on his leg. Their eyes meet and she can see the longing in the hazel pools, the desperation he feels, and his need to move forward and wrap his arm around her, to find comfort in a motherly embrace. But he does not move, he remains perfectly still not wanting to disturb Heath. Other than a bruise forming along his left cheekbone he appears tired and dirty but otherwise unharmed, a truth that cannot be said of Heath.

Reaching up she cups Gene's cheek in the palm of her hand, allowing him to lean into it and find comfort in her touch before turning her attention to the young man who has, through no real action of his own, been weaving his way into her heart. Biting the inside of her cheek to try and hold back the tears that immediately crest on the tips of her eyelids, she looks upon the battered boy dressed in only sleeping pants, resting on his brother. Closing her eyes, she forces down the lump in her throat before looking up at Gene and using his proximity to calm her rage, her fear, and to steady herself in the presence of their enemies.

Taking in a deep breath, she looks back down at the boy, who looks so much like her beloved Tom, and reaches out a hand, and just as she did to Gene, gently cup his bruised cheek. His shivering, chattering teeth, and occasional moan has already alerted her to the fever gripping his body, though the heat she feels through her hand ignites alarms within her. Shifting her eyes she sees the blood covered bandage wrapped around Heath's waist, the extensive bruising covering his bare torso, and the fact that Gene's hand is supporting his, probably to keep weight off of his shoulder. This time she is unable to stop the small cry rising up from within her as she quickly raises her hand to muffle the sound. _Oh Heath, just hang on son._

Working to quell the rising tide of fear that is gripping her heart, she softly runs her fingers over Heath's hair and is rewarded by a small slit of blue looking directly at her face. Smiling, she tries to offer comfort in this, the bleakest of places, with the hell's minions hovering directly behind her. She reaches out and clasps his left hand that is lying on the dirt ground and gives it a gentle squeeze, as she watches him shift his head slightly to be able to see her better. Just as with Gene she can see a longing in his eyes, not born out of a need to be comforted but out of a need to be forgiven.

"I'm sorry," he mouths, his voice barely above a whisper, "to bring them down on your family."

Gripping his hand tighter, she leans down above his ear and whispers, "Heath, you have nothing to apologize for. This is not your fault. It's theirs." She pauses allowing that to sink into the stubborn boy before she continues, "It's going to be okay, Heath. Just hang on, son. I know your brothers are on their way. Trust me."

His confused orbs watch as she sits back up and once again gives him an encouraging gaze, before turning toward his aunt and uncle.

"As you can clearly see Mrs. Barkley," Martha says, "no harm has come to your son. **Yet** ," she finishes, allowing her the last word to dangle in the air.

"On the contrary, Mrs. Simmons," Victoria evenly responds, "My son is injured and I request some water and bandages so I can tend to his wounds." She leaves her words hanging between them watching the confusion play out on the Simmons' faces. "As for us reaching an agreement, the answer is yes."

She turns back to Gene and Heath and lays her hand on the weary blond's cheek. "What is your price to take me, my daughter and **both** of my sons home?"

"BOTH!" Matt guffs, "Begging your pardon ma'am, but that boy ain't your son."

"He is my husband's son," Victoria unequivocally states, her eyes never leaving Heath's, "and that makes him my son."

Heath looks from her to his aunt and uncle and begins to shake his head, his breath deepening. No, he will not allow her to sacrifice herself, or Gene, or Audra for the likes of him. Using every ounce of strength he has left he tries to rise up onto his left arm, ignoring the screams of his bruised left shoulder and back.

"No, please," he begs, tightening his grip on her hand, "please, take your family. Keep them safe." Embarrassed at his own weakness, he closes his one eye and can't help but lay his head back down as he works to calm the scalding flames searing through him.

"I am Heath." Victoria comforts, her voice clear for all in the room to hear. "I plan on bringing **all** of my family home."

* * *

Tying his bedroll on the back of Jingo, Jarrod takes another second to make sure he has everything ready before turning away from his horse and heading back over to the infirmary side of the bunkhouse. It has been a long night and after tossing and turning for the majority of it he finally decided to get up and be ready to leave at first light. Luckily, he was not alone in his worry and found Alpha sitting by the fireplace in the parlour staring blankly into the empty hearth. Their worry for their friends and loved ones was outweighing their bodies' need for sleep.

Stepping through the wood door leading into the recovery area of the infirmary, he hopes to get an update on Billy and speak with Red before heading out to catch up with Nick. Duke has already agreed to keep the ranch going as they continue the search and Red has taken it upon himself to discover how he and the other hands had mysteriously been dosed with sleeping powder, leaving the ranch open to attack. Seeing Red helping Billy make his way back to his bunk after what he assumes was a trip to the outhouse, he waits until the young man is settled before motioning for Red to join him outside. Taking out the handkerchief he found on the floor and rubbing it between his fingers, he steps back outside of the bunkhouse and waits for Red as he watches the sun begin its crest over the horizon.

"You need somethin' boss?"

"Just a quick question, Red," Jarrod answers, turning back toward the other man and stuffing the handkerchief in his pocket. "You didn't happen to see Buddy out here yesterday, did you?"

"Buddy?" Red questions, "Yeah, he came down to check on his horse in the afternoon. That mean something?" He can see the wheels turning in those lawyer eyes and knows Jarrod doesn't ask a question without a purpose.

"Not sure." Jarrod reaches out his hand and pats Red on the shoulder. " Thanks, Red. You take good care of Billy."

* * *

"Dammit, Nick!" Fred yells, cursing the young man and his impatience. "The boy ain't awake and I can't allow you to kill him by trying to wake him up."

He pushes Nick away from the still unconscious man and silently thanks Jim who comes over and grabs the anxious rancher by the arm, pulling him back toward the camp that has been packed up in order for them to move out.

"Now, I have to get him to Doc Merar. It's the **law** ," he finishes sympathetically, "When he wakes up I'll catch up with you and tell you what he said. Ok?"

Fred looks deep in the hazel eyes and sees the unbridled anger battling with the man's moral sense. He has known Nick Barkley for years and there is not a person in Stockton who isn't aware of the wrath they would face should they even think of harming a member of this man's family.

"Ok?" he asks again, getting the man to look at him.

"FINE!" Nick yells, throwing his arms in the air and walking back over toward Coco only to turn quickly and stomp back over toward the other men. "BUT as soon as he wakes up you better find out where he is keeping my family!" he seethes.

"I will, Nick. You have my word," he gives Nick a reassuring pat on the shoulder before continuing, "Now, Joe is going to help me get the two bodies and the boy back to town and then I will send him out to meet you."

Nick nods his head and then turns on his heels back over to his horse, wanting to be anywhere he can that is not staring at the closed eyes of the one man who might be able to tell him what happened to his mother and siblings. It has taken everything he has to not already be on his horse, picking up the search where they left off last night, and if it wasn't for the firm hand and tough words of Jim that is exactly where he would be. Truth is, after the encounter last night it has taken the rest of the night and the early morning to clean up the mess and let Jim try to decipher the direction they originally came from. _I guess it's best I didn't run off blind into the night._ He'll remember to thank Jim for that once this is all over.

Turning back to watch Fred and Joe ride away in the direction of Stockton he looks over to Jim, who seems to be staring intently off in the direction of the path they are about to take.

"You having second thoughts about which way we should go?" Nick questions, as he watches Jim start walking up the trail. "Um, are you maybe forgetting something, LIKE your HORSE?"

Jim doesn't answer, annoying the riled man. He walks over and grabs the larger man's arm, trying to pull his attention back to him. Not getting Jim to turn his head, he lets out a large sigh and then follows the direction of the other man's eyes only to have his eyes widen in surprise.

"Is that…?" he starts to ask only to have Jim interrupt him.

"Someone riding in our direction like they got hell's hounds snipping at their ankles." Jim doesn't turn his gaze. "Yep, I think it is."

Drawing their weapons, both men start to walk back toward Lee who is now also watching the rider coming in fast. Preparing themselves for whatever battle was about to ensue, Nick cocks his hammer aiming at the target just as he begins to make out the long blond locks bouncing in rhythm with the hooves of the horse. Standing abruptly, he shoves his gun back in its holster and starts running out toward the rider, leaving Jim and Lee questioning his sanity until they hear him yell.

"AUDRA!"


	43. Chapter 43

Pulling back on the reins of the horse, she barely allows the mare to come to a stop before jumping out of the saddle and into the arms of her shocked brother. Her big protective brother always has a way to fend off her fears and settle her heart when the world seems to be crumbling in around her. It has always been this way between them, this brother is the one she leans on more than the others when she needs to know that everything is going to be alright. Squeezing tightly, she takes comfort in the tightening of his arms around her and buries her head in the cusp of his shoulder, releasing the tears that had been kept at bay by sheer anger. As the tears run freely down her cheeks, she allows herself a few minutes to be submersed in his strength as the weight of all that has happened in the last couple of days comes barreling over her.

"I got you. It's all going to be okay," Nick whispers continuously into her ear, paying no attention to the pounding footsteps running up behind them. Meeting NIck's eyes, Jim and Lee take a step back, giving the siblings some privacy.

After a few minutes Audra backs away and quickly wipes away the remnants of tears on her face. Now is not the time to get lost in emotion; she has a job to do and others who are depending on her. Taking in a shaky breath, she meets Nick's curious eyes and can't help the small smile that graces the corners of her lips at the disbelief she sees there. Looking over his shoulder back toward Jim and Lee, she waves them over, deciding it best to only say this once and then for all of them to be on their way.

"Are you alright? How'd you get away," the ever impatient Nick starts, not waiting for the other men to get there.

Giving Nick a sympathetic look, knowing the pain and anguish he must have been in as he searched, she doesn't make him wait for the others before she answers this one question, "I'm fine. I used mother's hairpin to pick the lock on the room they were holding us in and escaped when they took mother down to see Gene and Heath. Luckily, I found this horse saddled in the barn."

"YOU PICKED THE LOCK!" Nick yells, grateful and bothered all at the same time. "How do you know how to pick locks?"

"Well, if you must know," she starts and then greets Jim and Lee with a nod as they join them, "Jarrod taught me."

"Wha…," Nick starts, in what in any other situation would have been a comical display of disbelief complete with bulging eyes and a hanging chin, only to be interrupted by Jim.

Stifling his laugh but unable to hide his grin, Jim turns to Audra hoping to bring them back to the task at hand, "Audra, why don't you start at the beginning?"

"We don't have time for that! We have to go!" she admonishes. "The Simmons have Heath and Gene at the old Millers place. Mother is going to try to stall them but we don't have much time!" She looks over their shoulders trying to see if anyone else is with them. "Where's Jarrod?"

"Jarrod headed back to the ranch when we realized they split off," Nick answers, drawing himself back into the conversation. He watches as fear dances through her eyes. 'Why? What's wrong?"

"It's Buddy. He's the one that set us up to be captured. He's behind all of this."

"Buddy?" Nick questions, "But, why?"

"I don't know," she answers, looking between Nick and Jim, watching the growing agitation in each man. "He said it was nothing personal, just business, and that we should be happy it was him and not someone else."

"DAMMIT!" Jim yells, his thoughts torn between Alpha, who accompanied Jarrod back to the ranch, and Heath, who is now in the hands of his aunt and uncle. "I take it Buddy wasn't with the Simmons at the house."

"No, I haven't seen him," she answers, as she climbs back on top of her horse.

"That means he is still at the ranch, where we just sent Jarrod and Alpha," Jim angrily points out as they all exchange worried glances.

Seeing the distress in Jim's eyes, Nick walks over and places a hand on his shoulder as the three men walk back to mount up on their horses. "Don't worry, Jarrod will make sure Alpha is ok. Plus, they are not alone, they're surrounded by our hands."

"We have to go." Audra rides over to them breaking up the moment. "That Simmons lady is crazy and I'm not sure how long Mother can hold them off."

Looking over to meet Audra's eyes, Nick can't help but swell with pride at the capable young woman she has become. Sitting up straight on the back of the mare she rode in on, she is facing out in the direction she came, lost in thought. He knows his kind-hearted sister is struggling with the betrayal of their good friend and with the fear she feels for those still trapped in the Millers house, but you would never be able to tell that just from looking at her.

"How many in the house and outside?" he asks her.

"There were four, the Simmons and two young men, the Haskins," she responds not taking her eyes off the path ahead, "but only three came to get mother and I didn't see anyone else when I left."

Nick looks over at Jim as he takes in the information Audra is providing. He can see they are thinking the same thing, one of the Haskins is probably on his way to Stockton with Fred.

"Alright, three against three," Nick smiles, liking the odds.

"Four."

"Pardon?" All three men turn toward Audra.

"Four. Four against three," Audra glares over at the three men daring one of them to challenge her. "It's my family too, Nick, and I plan to help get them back."

"Alright, little sister." Nick concedes knowing better than to challenge her right now, "Lockpicking, horse thieving, I'm pretty sure there ain't nothing you can't do!"

At that she can't help but smile, as she kicks her mare into a gallop with the three men following close behind.

* * *

Standing off to the side of the barn, Jarrod watches as Buddy saddles his white stallion and prepares to accompany Jarrod when he heads out to meet up with Nick and Jim. Buddy's movements are sure, methodical almost, as he takes his time securing his saddlebags and bedroll and then checking the cinch on the underbelly once more. _So not the Buddy I remember. What are you up to, Buddy?_ Pushing off the wall, he walks over to double check his own saddle as he wonders why Buddy really wants to come. He can understand the feeling of guilt the young man claims is driving this need to help find the others, but he can't help the twist in his gut that that thought causes.

Looking up over the back of Jingo, Jarrod is met by Buddy's eyes staring intently at him causing a chill to creep down his spine. Shaking off the foreboding feeling washing through him, he looks away and steadies his nerves as he climbs up into his saddle. He honestly doesn't know why he has become so suspicious of Buddy. He has no evidence, no proof that he has done anything wrong, yet the handkerchief he found on the floor in Heath's room reminds him of the ones Buddy's mother used to carry, just simple, plain, and strikingly elegant. It is that alone that has planted a seed of doubt that continues to grow inside him.

"Ready to go?" he asks.

"You bet, Jarrod," Buddy responds with a broad smile, a smile that sends a wave of annoyance through Jarrod, before mimicking Jarrod's movements. "Where's Alpha?"

"I sent him to Stockton to meet up with Frank Sawyer," Jarrod admits, his eyes watching for any type of reaction this news might cause. When he sees none, he continues, "Frank was coming in from checking out some leads in Sacramento…" he sees Buddy's eye twitch, "at Ophir."

"Boy, I hope he found something," Buddy responds, his voice overly cheerful, though Jarrod detects a slight crack, "we could use some good news."

"Yes, we could." Jarrod watches him for a few more minutes before deciding to change the subject. "By the way, that's a beautiful horse"

The broad smile reappears but this time it has taken on a sinister tinge. "Isn't he! He was a payment of sorts for helping to complete a job a colleague of mine was having trouble completing. I was called in to take over and got this beauty as a bonus."

"That is some bonus." Jarrod watches as Buddy guides the horse out of the barn. He has never known him to be a particularly good rider but he seems completely in control of his steed. Moving to follow, Jarrod exits the barn to see Buddy already heading in the direction of the trail he had taken back to the house yesterday. _How did you know which way to go, Buddy? Guess its a good thing I had Alpha ride out super early to meet Frank and meet up as soon as possible._ Looking up he sees Buddy, waving his Stetson at him.

"Come on Jarrod, let's ride!" Buddy yells.

* * *

Pulling up hard, Alpha takes a moment to let the dust settle before climbing down out of the saddle and heading up onto the platform to meet the early morning train. Clutched in his right hand is the telegram Jarrod received last night letting him know Frank would be arriving first thing and that it was imperative someone is there to meet him. Jarrod had kept the message to himself but in the wee hours of the morn, as they sat unable to sleep due to the anxious worried feelings sending their minds swirling, he had entrusted Alpha with the task. Not wanting to let Jarrod down, Alpha had left just as the sun cast a warm glow over the horizon.

Watching as the train makes its way into the station, Alpha paces nervously on the deck as he tries to sort through all the information he needs to relay to Frank. So much has happened in the last two days, he doesn't even know where to begin. He knows the news about Heath's kidnapping will hit Frank especially hard, given how close he is to the boy, but the additional disappearances of Mrs. Barkley, Audra, and Gene are just as disturbing. He also can't help but wonder what urgent news Frank has that it was imperative that someone meets him instead of sending the news through the wire. Turning around to face the other way he jumps back as he is met with Frank's face directly in front of his.

"Alpha, my boy, it's good to see you," Frank greets the surprised man as he quickly throws an arm over the young man's shoulder turning him abruptly to head off the platform. "Is anyone else with you?"

Shaking off the initial shock, Alpha falls in line with Frank as the two race hurriedly off the platform where his horse is waiting. At the insistence of Frank, he unties the horse's reins and begins following the older man in the direction of the sheriff's station.

"No, just me," Alpha yells, trying to keep up. _Frank sure seems to be on a mission._ "A lot has happened in the last couple of days and I need to catch you up."

"Where's Buddy?" Franks asks but does not slow his pace.

"Uh… at the ranch, why?" Alpha answers and then tries to get an answer from Frank only to have him pick up his fast pace and refuse to look back and answer him. Frustrated, he reaches out and grabs Frank's arm, forcing him to stop. "What's going on Frank? Why are you asking about Buddy? He got something to do with what's going on? Cuz, right now we got four missing Barkleys, including Heath, and if Buddy does have something to do with it, I just left one of the last free Barkley alone with him!"

He watches as the anger from being stopped drains from Frank's face as his words sink in.

"Heath's missing?"

Alpha nods his head. "Since yesterday"

Frank takes in a deep breath and runs a hand over his face, silently cursing this turn of events, before patting Alpha on the shoulder in an effort to apologize for his brisk pace.

"I got some answers but I'd rather not discuss them out in the open. Let's head over to Fred's office so I can tell you both at the same time and then we'll head out immediately to find Heath."

A small smile spreads across his face as he thinks about the poor bastards who made the mistake of taking Heath. Between Uncle Jim, Frank and probably Nick Barkley they're in for a world of hurt.


	44. Chapter 44

"Uh, Frank?" Alpha calls out, once again trying to keep up with the older man as he hurries toward the sheriff's office.

"Yes," Frank yells back but keeps his momentum, his goal in sight.

"Well, I just thought I should tell you that Fred is not in his office right now," he calls out again. Realizing he should have mentioned this outright he looks down at his feet, embarrassed by his own incompetence. "He went out with the posse that went to find Mrs. Barkley and Miss Barkley."

"WHAT!" Frank growls, coming to an abrupt stop causing Alpha to run into the back of him. Jumping back Alpha's eyes beg forgiveness as Frank's hands find his hips and he subconsciously begins to tap his foot, annoyance oozing off of him. He sees Alpha gulp and go to say something but instead of listening to what he might have to say he shifts his path and just heads out in a new direction.

"Livery!" He yells, answering the unasked question hovering on the boy's lips. _This boy has the sense of a toothpick. Don't know how he and Teddy were related,_ he internally rants. He starts to walk past the doctor's office to the livery where his horse is waiting when a brown blur catches his eye. Slowing his pace, he turns to look at the chestnut mare tied to the post in front of the doctor's infirmary and recognizes it as Fred's almost immediately. Smiling at his luck, he again shifts his direction, waves to Alpha to follow and then opens the closed door and enters. Alpha walks his horse over and ties him off beside Fred's mare before making his way inside behind Frank.

"Fred?" Franks calls out. He motions for Alpha to remain where he is and then heads back to the surgery.

Walking through the archway, he sees Fred and Dr. Merar surrounding a young unconscious man on the table. Glancing toward Frank, the two men motion for him to enter. As the doctor continues his ministrations Fred steps away to come over and stand by Frank. The two men greet each other with a firm handshake, as they both continue to watch the doctor sew up the crease in the boy's forehead. After a few minutes, the doctor finishes by wrapping a bandage around the man's head and then turns to face the two lawmen.

"Sorry Fred, he'll be out for a while," Dr. Merar apologizes knowing that Fred was hoping to get some answers out of this patient about the whereabouts of the missing Barkleys. "But I think he is stable enough to move over to the jail. I can come by and check on him once he wakes up."

"Thanks, Doc, I'll leave him handcuffed to the bed and have two of my deputies come over to get him," he answers the doctor before turning to Frank, "When did you get back?"

"Just now," Frank answers and then glances over to the still patient. "He mixed up in this?"

"Yep," Fred sighs as he motions for them to head back out to the lobby. "Jed Gatley, Barrett, and that kid in there tried to ambush us last night. Jed and Barrett are dead and I was hoping he would wake up and tells us where they are keeping the Barkleys."

"Looks like we both have a lot to catch up on." Frank lets out a deep breath as his adrenaline starts to wane.

"That we do." Fred says as he greets Alpha, "How about I have some breakfast sent over to my office and we can fill each other in on what we have learned before we head back out?"

Slopping up the rest of his egg yoke with his last bite of biscuit, Frank plops the morsel into his mouth as Fred stares at him incredulously. He has just finished going over all that happened during his visit to Ophir, including filling Fred in on his suspicions about Buddy and the true identity of the girl who has been locked up in the basement for all these years. He can tell the other man is warring within himself to make sense out of how the person he watched grow up here in Stockton could possibly be the person responsible for all of the deaths that have occurred, especially the death of his own father.

"Well, I guess now we know how Gene and Heath got taken." Fred shakes his head, staring at his empty plate. They all had woofed down their breakfast knowing that as soon as they ate they needed to get back on the trail. A truth that now, with this new knowledge he has about Buddy, has become all the more urgent. "Where are the Dowlins now?"

"Safe," Frank answers pushing the plate in front of him away. "Alpha said Buddy had planned to ride out with Jarrod this morning and I can't imagine that to be a good thing."

He glances over to Alpha who nods in confirmation before rising from his chair, with Fred following his lead.

"No, I reckon it ain't. I guess we can head out to where I left Nick and the others last night and then decide where to go from there," Fred sighs, "I wish that boy in there would wake up and tell us something." They all look over to the holding cells and to the lone figure lying still as death on the cot.

* * *

As the proclamation that she intended to bring all of her family home left her lips, Victoria felt a sense of calm sweep through her that has been absent in the last couple of months since Heath came to them. So many internal battles have been fought over how she should react to the confirmation of her husband's infidelity and yet somehow, here in the direst of places, as she continues to run her fingers through the blonde hair, she has an overwhelming sense of peace. Yes, Heath is now her child, same as the others and she will not allow any more harm to come to him. Moving her hand to his forehead as his teeth chatter when another chill runs through him, she gives a reassuring look to Gene before turning to look up at their captors.

"May I please have some water and bandages so that I might tend to his wounds?" she politely asks Martha who is glaring at her in disgust. Undeterred, she continues, "and some broth."

"He ain't part of no deal," Matt slurs, as both he and Clay take a step forward, guns raised. With a simple wave of her hand, Martha stops their movement and silences her husband.

"Mrs. Barkley," she coos, as she kneels down eye level with Victoria, "maybe you don't quite understand the nature of your situation here. See, apparently amongst your late husband's many faults...," she pauses and looks over at Heath, "he also had a tendency to upset powerful men, men who don't necessarily abide by the lawful rules of engagement. Men who have paid heavily for your family's demise. Now, I'm offering you a chance to save yourself and at least two of your children. Are you really willing to let them die for the likes of your husband's mistake?"

"He's not a mistake," Gene blurts out, unintentionally moving his leg, causing Heath to awaken.

Heath looks up at Mrs. Barkley and then to Gene and once again begins to raise himself up on his left arm. Trying not to let go of his right hand, Gene gently steadies his new brother by sliding in closer to him and allowing him to lie up against him.

"Mrs. Barkley," Heath whispers and she quickly reaches over and takes his left hand in hers. Squeezing tightly, refusing to let go, their eyes meet and he is astonished by the honesty and love he sees looking back at him. Love for him, the product of her husband's shame.

"I am well aware of the types of emotions my husband inspired in others," she rebukes, "and I am in no way ignorant of our current situation. That said, it doesn't change my position. We either **all** leave," she gives Heath's hand another squeeze, "or we **all** stay. It's that simple."

At this Martha backs away slightly as she tries to sort out the what game she believes Victoria is playing. In her mind, there is absolutely no way she can possibly care about the mongrel. He is nothing more than a dark mark on their prestigious family, a means for others to take advantage of them, to ridicule them. Surely she sees that they will be better off with him dead, and yet, here they are engaging in a battle of wills over the dirty bastard. _No, there must be something else she has to gain,_ Martha thinks as she stands back to full height and then begins pacing around the room.

Victoria watches as Heath's aunt starts to walk in circles around the room as if trying to decide which card she has left to play. At this point, she knows that Audra must be out of the house and with any luck she has found a way to head out and get help. That is, of course, if the missing Haskin brother is not somewhere lurking out of sight waiting for her to try. She shakes her head dismissing that thought, _No, if that were the case they would know by now._ Then there is Buddy, how does he fit into all of this, what do these powerful men have hanging over his head that would force him to betray those who love him.

"And what about Buddy," she calls out causing Martha to stop and briskly turn toward her. "What do these men have on him?"

This question causes Martha and Matt to laugh, leaving Victoria feeling rather unsettled. She looks back toward Gene and Heath and sees them both looking at her through apologetic eyes.

"Oh, what it must be like to see the world through rich rose-colored glasses," Martha mocks, "You really are that naive, aren't you?"

"Leave her alone," Heath defends with surprising strength causing Martha to lash out and backhand him.

"No one asked you, mutt!" She yells before walking over to the corner of the room to compose herself. Turning back around, she runs her hands over her hair and walks back over to face a confused Victoria. "Buddy is the mastermind behind all of this, in fact, he takes great pleasure in the games he plays."

"No!" Victoria interrupts, "Not Buddy, he would never do anything like this!"

Victoria glances around the room looking for any confirmation that Martha is lying to her. She has known that boy all his life, she has loved him and comforted him after his mother's death. There is no way he could be a part of some plot to destroy her family.

"Oh, but he did! In fact, I'd say he takes great pleasure in causing others pain and from what I learned in that dank dark basement I was locked in for eight long years, he has been doing so for many many years."

She looks down at Victoria who is shaking her head, her eyes lined with tears and she begins to feel the justification she deserves.

"Poor little Molly falsely locked away for three years," she jests, " it must be nice to have a rich daddy as a judge who makes witnesses to your crimes vanish," she laughs and then kneels back down to eye level with Victoria reveling in the tears on her cheeks as once again her perfect little world is shattered.

"That is why I'm free. I found out his dirty little secret and he needed a distraction so that he could complete the job he had been paid for." She looks over at Heath and smiles at the rage she sees simmering in his blue eyes. "The timing was perfect, the bastard showing up on your doorstep. The family trying to come to term with their daddy's dirty little secret. Everyone distracted, giving Buddy just enough time to formulate his plan to kill every single one of you."

She leans back on her heels and allows her words to sink in as Victoria works to compose herself. Her words are having the impact she desired as she watches the grip on Heath's hand lessen.

"So, it really is his fault." She points at Heath, who looks away ashamed. "Now do you really want to protect him or save what's left of your family?"

Reeling in her emotions, Victoria straightens her shoulders and rises to her heels, not allowing Heath's hand to fall. Yes, it is a shock to her that Buddy, her godson Buddy, a boy she has loved since childhood, is responsible for all the pain and destruction that has plagued them for the last week, But even so, it does not change her resolve.

"It is not his fault. He had every right to come and find his family," she states firmly as much for Heath as for Martha. "And as I said before we either **all** go or no one goes."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!" Martha jumps up screaming, startling all of them. "HE'S GOING TO KILL YOU! HOW COULD YOU NOT WANT TO SAVE YOUR SON AND YOUR DAU…" She abruptly stops and looks toward the upstairs. "What have you done?" she seethes "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

She runs over and backhands a surprised Victoria, causing Gene to release Heath's hand as they both move forward to defend her. Seeing Heath move, Matt runs over in defense of his wife and pistol whips the boy leaving a large gash in his forward and causing his world to go black. Matt then goes to move on Gene when a loud boisterous voice rains down upon them.

"SIMMONS YOU BETTER BRING MY FAMILY OUT OF THERE!"


	45. Chapter 45

The bellowing sound of the deep voice echoes through the walls of the basement as the occupants stay frozen in place, listening for any sound above them that might indicate someone has entered the house. After a few moments of silence, Martha stands a little taller, her face twisted in anger at their discovery and her eyes gleaming with murderous delight. She abruptly turns on Victoria ready to lash out again when the sound of horses circling the house draws her attention. Running over to the small window on the edge of the ceiling, with Matt and Clay following, they all look and see three different men, mounted on horses, riding around the house.

Using the distraction to their advantage Victoria and Gene quickly kneel down beside the unconscious Heath. Carefully lifting the boy up so that his head rests on his lap, Gene gently picks up his left wrist and tries his best to measure his pulse, frustrated by the fact he has so little training and is at a loss for how to really help. _Hang in there, Heath. Help is here,_ he thinks as he sets down the hand and watches while his mother rips off two sections of her underskirt. Using one to wipe away the blood from the oozing wound on the blonde's forehead, she tries to gauge the depth of the laceration before taking the other and carefully wrapping it around his head.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Martha shouts, turning back on the three, her eyes burning with rage. "Get the Barkleys and follow me," she roars to Matt and Clay just before running up the basement steps and through the door.

Knowing better than to question, Matt walks over and none too gently grabs Victoria around the arm, lifting her to her feet while Clay tries to do the same to Gene. Unwilling to allow his brother's head to just fall to the ground, Gene shrugs his arm out of Clay's grip causing Matt to raise his gun on Victoria and Clay to lean the barrel of his colt against Gene's temple. With a nod of encouragement from his mother, Gene eases Heath's head down on the ground before standing up and taking a step forward. Satisfied, the two men edge their hostages forward and up the stairs, leaving the lone prone figure lying helplessly on the floor.

* * *

The dust swirls around the hooves of the three horses circling the decrepit farmhouse that once stood as a symbol of Stockton's potential back in the city's early days. As Nick brings his horse to a stop in front of the once-abandoned farm, memories of happy times spent with the Miller's only son, who ran off to war never to return, run through his mind. Those were happy times as the two families forged ahead in the wild of this unknown territory building a strong community and making a name for themselves. That lasted until the loss of their son and a string of bad investments finally took its toll, crippling the Millers financially, forcing Robert Miller to sell what little they had left to an anonymous buyer and move with his wife back to Boston. For the last five years, the farm had laid abandoned, rotting away to nothing more than a prop in a child's ghost story.

Circling around once more, Jim and Lee bring their horses to a stop beside Nick as they all notice the shoddy reconstruction that must have taken place over the last few weeks in an effort to stabilize the structure enough to carry out their plan. They can see a few places where some of the rotten wood has been replaced with fresh boards and the fallen front door has been replaced with new hinges. Unconsciously gripping his saddle horn, he wonders (not for the first time) who is behind the wretched game being played on those he loves. From what little he knows of Heath's relatives and from the description he received from Audra, he is convinced they will not hesitate to kill in order to save themselves.

Turning toward Jim, he sees the same questioning look staring back at him as they both work through how best to enter the house and make sure none of the Barkleys are hurt. Motioning with his head for the two other men to follow, Nick turns his steed back to the rim of the property when the sound of pounding hooves draws his attention away and causes his hazel eyes to burn with fury.

"Dammit, Audra," Nick yells, his voice just as loud and boisterous as always, "I told you to stay put!"

"And I told you they're my family too," she rebukes and then continues before he can respond causing Jim to chuckle, leaving no doubt in his mind that Heath is related to these two. "I checked the barn. It's exactly as I left it, wagon unhitched. So they must be inside."

"Audra." Nick shakes his head at the determination he sees looking back at him. He understands the drive pulling her to want to help. _Hell, she wouldn't be a Barkley if she wasn't disobeying my orders and taking things into her own hands_ , he thinks as he continues to stare at her, their eyes locked in a battle of wills that neither one has any plan to relent. He just knows he would give anything for his little sister to never know what it is like to have to defend herself, possibly to the death.

Staring at his sister for a few more minutes, his eyes again filled with fear and pride, he concedes, looking away before moving closer to her. Pulling his rifle from the scabbard, he reaches over and holding the rifle hovering in front of her, he motions for her take it. With shaking hands, unsure of her brother's intention, she reaches up and places the weapon in her delicate palms. She nods her resolve as she grips the weapon tighter, pulling it in close to her.

"Alright, you can help. BUT," He quickly adds, reaching over to gently cup her cheek in his hand, "you have to listen!" He pauses, waiting for her to agree. When he sees her nod in confirmation he continues, "I know you can shoot. Hell, you shoot better than Jarrod and Gene combined."

She giggles slightly, blushing at the compliment. He removes his hand from her cheek and places on top of her hand gripping the rifle.

"But Audra, shooting at targets is way different than shooting at a living, breathing creature. Knowing that you may be the cause of them taking their last breath. I'd like to protect you from that if I can." He watches as the fire reignites in her eyes and her lips begin to move in the form of a rebuttal, so he quickly continues, "BUT, I know I can't protect you forever."

He turns back to face the house. "There's three of them and four of us and only two ways in or out. Jim," he looks over at the older man who finishes his thought for him.

"Audra and I will cover the back." He nods to Nick, giving a solemn vow to protect his little sister.

"And Lee and I will cover the front," Nick finishes.

* * *

"Bind their wrists and gag them," Martha orders as they walk into the living room. Moving over toward the window she watches as the three men on horses gather in front of the house and then move to the outskirts of the property where they are joined by a lone female. _That little, &*%$! _Martha screams internally at being bested by a mere child. Turning away from the window, she begins pacing the room deep in thought.

Working quickly, not wanting to add to the obvious frustration Martha is in, Clay holds his gun to their victims as Matt gathers ropes and bandanas to complete her orders. Roughly grabbing his intended target, Matt forces Victoria into a chair and pulls her arms behind her, where he begins to wrap the rope around her wrists. Victoria then watches as he bestows the same treatment upon Gene whose own rage is barely being contained and the gun pointed in their direction is the only thing keeping him in place.

Trying her best to meet Gene's eyes as a ball of cloth is stuffed into her mouth, Victoria wills her son to calm down knowing that desperate people often make irrational mistakes. With the arrival of Nick and whoever he has with him, she imagines it is only a matter of time before they are freed and right now it is crucial that they remain calm. Looking toward her son, she slowly moves her foot to gently tap Gene's ankle, just as his hands are tightly tied behind his back. He winces as the rope bites into his skin but turns to look at his mother who is offering up no fight, and her eyes demand he does the same. Confused, he opens his mouth to ask her why when a rough hand clamps onto his jaw locking it open as he is also gagged.

With their captives contained, the two men watch as Martha frantically paces around the room mumbling to herself. For Clay, his own anxiety is building as he wonders what has become of his little brother who left last night to go with the felon Jed and Barrett to apprehend Nick Barkley. He knows it means if that group is outside, and Nick Barkley is among them something must have gone terribly wrong. If something happened to Larry he will never forgive himself. He is the only reason the kid was even here. Working himself up into a rage, Clay grabs hold of Gene's shirt and pounds his fist into the other man's unprotected face and chest causing Matt to tackle the younger man, stopping him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Matt yells as he pins the man to the ground, causing Martha to stop abruptly and stare down at the fallen men just as Gene straightens himself up in the chair.

"You sent my brother out there," he snarls and looks over at Martha who calmly bends down beside him and picks up his fallen gun. Pointing it at the Barkleys, she lets them know in no uncertain terms that one wrong move would mean their end. "He ain't returned and now they're outside. What do you think that means?"

"I think it means they killed your brother," she validates his fears, wanting his emotions to rule him. "Don't you want revenge?" she questions.

"Yes", he seethes, as he works his way out from under Matt and stands fist clenched in front of her.

"Good," she smiles and hands the gun back to Clay who keeps it pointed at Gene and Victoria. She then walks into the kitchen leaving the two men wondering what she has planned but returns a few moments later carrying cans of kerosene and a gun tucked into her waistband. Taking the cans of flammable liquid, she begins pouring the liquid all over the room much to the pleasure of her co-conspirators and to the dismay of their captives.

"We'll use the fire as a distraction while we sneak out the back and get to the wagon. Even if they figure it out they won't risk shooting their family and," she points toward the basement door, then looks over at the horror shining in both sets of Barkley's eyes "it will take care of our other problem."

Walking over she roughly grabs hold of Victoria's arm, yanking her out of the chair as Clay does the same to Gene. Pushing them toward the back door, Martha hands over the matriarch to Matt as she walks back into the room and garnishes a box of matches. Slowly lighting the first one she carefully lights the curtains on fire before quickly moving toward the back. Simultaneously lighting three more matches, she unceremoniously throws them into the room, only watching long enough to make sure they did not go out before hurrying to follow the others out the back door.


	46. Chapter 46

"Uh, boss," Lee leans over toward Nick, though his eyes remain focused on the billowing smoke pouring out of the front windows. Nick had just set their plan in motion and turned to Jim when a glare of light in the windows caught Lee's eyes. Now seconds later it seems the entire front room is engulfed in flames that are quickly spreading to the rotting wood on the front porch.

"WHAT?" Nick bellows. Turning abruptly toward the cowhand, his eyes catch the reflection of light coming from the house in his peripheral vision. Looking back toward the harrowing scene, a ghastly chill crawls slowly down his spine. _No, they wouldn't hurt them. Not Mother or Gene, or…  
_  
"Stay here!" he yells back to Lee and Audra as the thoughts swirl through his mind and he takes off in a gallop toward the back of the house with Jim right beside him.

The experienced lawman knows this is a distraction to draw their attention toward the front of the house so they can try to escape with their captives out the back. He also knows that Matt and Martha Simmons don't include Heath in the list of those they are willing to save meaning, if he is still inside, they have very little time to save him. Glancing over at Nick, who he believes has come to the same conclusion, he can see the rapid spread of flames following them from the front to the back of the house like the devil himself is nipping at their heels. The black smoke is now pouring out of every window on the first floor and Jim sends a silent prayer to the heavens above that Heath is not still in there.

Slowing down as they reach the edge of the back porch, the two men see their quarry slowly making their way toward the barn. Jim immediately recognizes the Simmons and is unable to contain the small amount of bile that rises in his throat at the sight of them, two of the vilest people he has ever had the displeasure of meeting. Martha is dragging Victoria in front of her while Matt walks beside her and to her left is another man, whom Jim does not recognize, dragging Gene. Their captives are bound and gagged but that is not stopping them from twisting and turning and dragging their feet in an attempt to slow their pace.

Jumping down from their mounts, Jim and Nick quickly scan the area for any type of cover they might be able to take before they confront the unsuspecting criminals. Neither man would dare to engage in a gun battle with Victoria and Gene so exposed but the confirmation that Heath is not with them gives them very little time. They need to end this confrontation and get to Heath as quickly as possible as they both are very aware that they may already be too late, a thought that is not acceptable to either man.

Tapping the larger man on the shoulder, Nick motions toward an isolated well that sits off to the right of them between the house and the barn. He then motions to the other side of the house where a broken down wagon bed and few barrels remains rotting in the sun. In an unspoken agreement, confirmed with a simple nod, each man turns towards their respective cover. Using the distraction of the struggling captives and keeping low to the ground, the two quietly but quickly, in movement that belies their size and spurs, make their way to the safety of their chosen protection. With Nick safely behind the decaying wagon and Jim nestled on the side of the farm's well, Nick's boisterous voice strips away the delusion of a seamlessly easy escape and brings the struggling group to a halt.

"SIMMONS," he yells, "I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING WITH MY FAMILY BUT YOU HAD BETTER STOP RIGHT THERE!"

* * *

As the tentacles of pain begin to wrap their fingers tightly around Heath's skull, the downed cowboy fights to retreat back into the darkness but his restlessness only succeeds in waking him more. His quiet moans escape his lips and drift into the walls of the empty room, drowned out by the roar of the fire above him. His eyes remain closed as his injuries ignite denying him even the slightest reprieve from the anguish he has been living in. Confused he tries to roll to his right side only to have his shoulder scream out in excruciating waves that cause his stomach to revolt and his consciousness to narrow. Unable to stop what is about to happen, he uses what little strength he has to shift to his left side just as the contents of his stomach are victorious in their rebellion. The combination of water and acid burn his throat as the waves of nausea pass through him, wreaking havoc on his broken ribs. Exhausted, he leans his forehead into the ground, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on breathing only to have the taste and smell of smoke fill his senses.

 _Fire_ , he thinks as he shifts his head on the ground and the memories of the last few days begin to shuffle in past his defenses, reminding him of where he is and what has happened to him. Slowly opening his good eye, he looks down at his bound wrists and ankles before he begins to desperately search the room for those who were trapped with him. His last conscious thought before his world had gone black was of his aunt striking Mrs. Barkley and him and Gene rising to protect her.

"Gene?" he frantically calls out, his voice weak. He hopes and prays that his brother is not stuck down here with him. "Mrs. Barkley?" he coughs which ignites a new series of pain coursing through his chest.

Laying his head back down upon the hard ground trying to slow his breathing as the room continues to fill with smoke, he feels a surge of relief at the silent response to his calls. Somehow the Barkleys had escaped this imprisonment and for that, he is happy. At least he won't be the cause of their death. Defeated, broken, he closes his eyes against the burn of the smoke resigned to his fate. He is tired and alone, the only family he has ever known is gone and he no longer has a desire to fight for a place in this world.

* * *

Sick and tired of being ordered around by her brothers as if she is a reckless child with nothing meaningful to contribute, Audra waits for all of five minutes as Nick disappears to the back of the house before dismounting and running toward the front porch. She is not helpless nor is she stupid and while her family has tried to protect her from the true nature of the Simmons as much as they could there is no doubt in her mind that they have left her new brother inside. Knowing it will take Nick a good amount of time to free Gene and Mother, and that is simply time Heath does not have to spare, she begins looking around for an opening where she may be able to enter.

"Miss Audra," Lee questions, quickly jumping down and running up beside her. "What are you doing, Miss Audra. Please come back to your horse."

"I can't do that, Lee." She shakes him off defiantly. "I need to help my brother."

"Ain't that what Nick and that Sheriff Barnes are doing?" Lee looks at her confused.

Frustrated, Audra turns on the man, her determined eyes glaring at the unsuspecting hand, "He is helping Gene but my brother Heath is trapped inside. I'm sure of it!" she screams at the man, pushing past him.

She tries to get close to the porch, which is now engulfed in flames, but almost instantly steps back as the fumes and the heat are almost too much to bear. Backing away coughing, she remains undeterred and starts to head to the left side of the porch with Lee following closely, searching for another type of entrance. As she makes her way, she tries to picture the layout of the house and wonders where they had been keeping her brothers. _Not upstairs, when I left the door to the other room was open and I can't think of anywhere on the first floor,_ she thinks, remembering the path she took to leave out the back door. With a jolt, she realizes that when she left if they had been on the same floor as her they would have heard her leave. _So what's left?_ She questions internally as she makes her way to the side of the house only to have the answer to her question blind her.

Reaching up to block the reflection of the sun off the small window at the bottom of the house, she comes to a halt and nearly screams with joy.

"A basement," she gleefully whispers to Lee who is standing right beside her. "Of course, they must have kept them in there!"

Without a moment to lose, she bends down beside the window that is only about three feet wide and two feet tall and begins knocking lightly on the frail glass ignoring the heat of the flames above her. Getting no response she places her face up against the pane, trying to see through the smoke-filled room. Lee, who has been standing back, inches up beside her and begins looking into the basement as he starts to believe the girl might be onto something. Audra's sudden gasp and nails digging into his skin confirms his suspicions as she begins pointing into the dark room.

"I saw something move," she tells him, her eyes watering, "He's in there and we gotta get him out."

* * *

"Well, that can't be good," Buddy exhales as he leans on the side of Jingo facing out toward their destination. "That crazy couple must have gone and set the house on fire."

"I'll tell you, Jarrod." He flips the unconscious man over onto his stomach and grabs the man's wrists pulling them behind his back as he takes a piece of rope and begins to bind the unaware man's hands together. "I never do like to work with other people. Especially crazy people, like the Simmons."

He pulls the rope tighter making sure his knots are secure before flipping the man back over. Bending down he takes a fist full of Jarrod's shirt and lifts him to a seated position and then begins to tap lightly on his face trying to rouse the oblivious man.

"Come on now, wake up," he encourages, "I didn't hit ya that hard."

Seeing the eyes starting to move under the closed lids, he gently lays the man back down as he goes back to repacking the horses. They had stopped for a short rest as they both knew they had ridden the horses hard and a drink from the nearby stream would do them some good. It was then that Buddy made his move, bringing his gun down upon his unsuspecting friend, knocking the man unconscious. Finishing up attaching their saddlebags, he moves to once again stand beside the waking man, looking over to the large clouds of black smoke starting to rise in the distance.

"I got a feeling they've gone and made a mess of things. Not that I expected much else from them. They were just convenient." He turns back to see a set of confused dazed blue eyes looking at him. He reaches down and helps Jarrod to sit up again, supporting him as his world spins.

"Yep, convenient, someone to keep you off my trail until I had all of you where I needed. Now, look what they've done." He points toward the Miller's farm and Jarrod's head turns to look in that direction. His unfocused eyes making out only the dark cloud rising into the air, he turns back toward the blurry form of Buddy as he tries to clear the grogginess he feels.

"Oh well, maybe they took a few of you with them, leaving me with less people I've got to bury," Buddy laughs and pulls Jarrod to his feet.


	47. Chapter 47

His voice is immediately met with a round of gunfire that soars harmlessly above his head as he ducks back down behind the wagon he has chosen as his cover. He is not delusional and did not expect it to be that easy but what better way to get their attention and halt their progress toward the barn. He peeks back over the edge of the wagon and sees Gene, who is putting up even more of a fight, directly in front of him. _Thatta boy, Gene!_ he thinks as he moves closer to the edge of the decaying wood protecting him and lines up his shot, ready should one become available to him. Looking out across the yard, he sees Jim doing the exact same thing.

"You got nowhere to go, Simmons," Nick threatens, his voice formidable, "you're surrounded and there ain't no way I am going to let you leave with my mother or my brothers!"

"Brothers!' Martha spits. Shifting Victoria more in front of her, she tightens her hold on the struggling woman neck. "And here I thought you were the sensible one." she mocks.

Looking over to her cohorts she sees Matt keeping his shaky gun pointed in the direction of Nick while Clay is pointing his gun directly at Gene. The group is huddled together creating a tight ring with Victoria and Gene protecting them from an outright shootout, something Martha knows they would quickly lose. Scanning the yard she tries to locate the rest of the group that has come to take them down but only catches a glimpse of one other head, directly in front of her, peeking out at them. _So where are the rest of you_ , she wonders as she does another quick scan. Smiling, she concludes that big brother Nick must have wanted to keep Audra safe and so, for now, they outnumber them.

"I ain't got no problem with you! We already accomplished what we set out to do," she squeals and looks up toward the fire that has now spread to the second floor of the old farmhouse. "Now unless you want something to happen to your dear mother or your real brother…"

"WHERE'S HEATH?" Nick yells cutting off her vile voice. He stands up from behind the wagon, the fear for this new brother overriding his sensibilities. He sees Gene motioning with his head toward the house and he feels a lead brick of regret sinking in his stomach. If Heath is still inside there, they have very little time to try and get him out.

Peeking out over the side of the well, Jim sees Nick jump up at the mention of Heath's apparent demise. _If the boy is still trapped in that burning inferno we have minutes maybe seconds to get him out and even then depending on where he is it may be too late to save him. Oh god, Heath, please hang on boy. I don't plan on losing you,_ Jim shakes his head to clear away the depressing thought. He won't let himself imagine a world without the young man he thinks of as one of his own in it, so he instead focuses on the task at hand. _This standoff needs to be resolved and it needs to be resolved right now!_ With all eyes turned to the now unprotected Nick, Jim quickly takes a shot near the feet of the miscreants, setting in motion the next series of events.

As the shot lands near Martha's feet, she instinctively jumps back causing the group to stumble toward Nick. Clay reacts to the push by dropping his gun from Gene's temple and points it at the ground as he braces himself against the incursion and tries to secure his hold on Gene. Recognizing his chance to break free, Gene pushes into Clay's shoulder and at the same time he takes the heel of his boot and slams it down hard on the other man's foot causing the man to cry out and lean forward. Knowing he won't get another chance, Gene unleashes another attack sending his head back with such force it instantly breaks the young man's nose and sends blood gushing down his face. Dazed, Clay loosens his grip on Gene allowing him to pull free and bring his bound wrists crashing into the side of the incoherent man's head. Dropping his gun, Clay stumbles forward and is brought to his knees as Gene pounds into his back before quickly retrieving the fallen man's gun.

Seeing the altercation happening to his left, Matt does his best to take aim at the unsuspecting Nick whose dazed over eyes are staring aimlessly at the unrelenting flames pouring off the old Miller house. Cocking his gun he takes his shot hoping that he is aiming at a solid form as his daily dose of whiskey has him seeing triple. Feeling a slight sting on the side of his left arm, Nick's turns quickly towards the melee and instantly spots the raised weapon in the hands of Matt Simmons. For Matt, the jolt of his colt sends his drunken form galumphing away from the group giving Nick the perfect opportunity to safely take aim. With pleasure he releases a single shot that strikes true, producing a hole through the wasted man's right shoulder and brings the offensive weapon in his hand to the ground as the man falls crying to his knees. Reacting quickly Nick leaps over the fallen wagon which had once been his refuge and runs to pick up the discarded colt, before leaning down to look into the eyes of the man, the monster, who not only held his family hostage but terrorized his new little brother for most of his life. With his sights set on revenge, Nick delivers a terrifying right cross that sends the fiend into oblivion.

Realizing her carefully orchestrated plan is quickly coming to an end, Martha shoots wildly in Jim's direction as she tries to catch herself and pull Victoria with her towards the barn. Feeling the grip loosen from around her neck, Victoria, to the surprise of Jim who is watching, head butts Martha nailing the woman directly on the bridge of her nose causing her to naturally reach up with her gun hand and stumble forward. Thinking quickly, Victoria swoops down out from under Martha's arm and with strength forged in a mother's rage against the person who harmed her children, she takes her combined fist and punches the stunned woman in the jaw bringing her to her knees. Watching the scene unfold from the sidelines, Jim cannot help but smile at the furiousness of the attack Victoria laid out on her victim. Jumping up as Martha goes down, he quickly runs over and grabs the gun out of the deranged woman's hand.

Tucking the extra gun into his belt, Nick runs over to Gene and, using a knife he carries attached to his belt, he quickly cuts the ropes binding his brother's hands together before heading over to Victoria to do the same. Nodding to Jim who has his gun positioned to take out any one of the three should they make any type of movement he runs toward the house just as the second floor collapses, taking out any hope of entering. Falling as his knees buckle at the unexpected sense of loss, his eyes catch Gene running toward the side of the house screaming about the basement and a window. Wasting no time, Nick jumps up and runs after the determined Gene, realizing there may still be a chance to save Heath, to save his brother.

* * *

Leaping to her feet, Audra runs back toward the horses leaving a confused Lee peering in the darkened basement window. As the smoke continues to build in the room he sees something white move in the distance. _Well, I'll be,_ he thinks as he removes his vest and wraps it around his fist and forearm. Backing a little ways away from the window he takes his arm and smashes in the window and is instantly overcome with an outpouring of smoke. Coughing, he leans off to the side as the smoke unleashed by the broken window begins to dissipate into a slow flow. _Well, that's good._ _Looks like the fire isn't inside the basement._ He thinks as he glances back into the room and can now make out the shape of a person lying very still on the floor.

"Mr. Barkley," he yells but gets no response. "It's Lee, sir. One of the hands on the ranch. Audra is with me." He hears a soft moan and sees the boy's leg move slightly. "You just hold on, we're gonna get you out of there!"

Standing up he sees Audra guiding the horses over toward the side of the house, making sure to keep them far enough away that the fire won't alarm them. He marvels at her ease with the beasts, even after eight years of working on the Barkley ranch, it always amazes him to see the natural talent Miss Barkley has when it comes to horses. Breaking his daze, he runs over to meet her as she lifts a blanket, the rifle, and a rope off of her borrowed horse.

"I don't think he is gonna be much help," he looks into the focused blue eyes, "as far as getting him out of there. I broke out the window and tried to call his name but he barely moved."

Not bothering to answer the man, she runs back to the window and using the end of the rifle finishes breaking out the glass before laying the blanket on the edge to protect them from the small shards left in the frame. Covering her mouth as she begins to choke on the smoke and her eyes water, she leans her head into the room and yells for her big brother.

"Heath!" she screams, but he does nothing more than shifts one of his legs. "Heath, big brother, please! I need you to come toward the window. We don't have much time. Please, Heath, hurry!"

Her screams are met with silence as other than the small shift she saw in his leg her brother has remained silent, unmoving. Undeterred, she starts to climb through the window only for her momentum to be thwarted by a hand firmly attached to her arm. Looking up she sees Lee, on his knees beside her holding her arm tight, not allowing her to move. Above them, the fire rages on and has now reached the second story meaning it is only a matter of time before the structure begins to tumble.

"What are you doing?" she curses, trying to release her arm from his grip. "I have to go in there!"

"No ma'am, Miss Barkley." Lee's brown eyes soar with compassion for the stubborn girl, so much like her brothers. "I can't let you do that. Besides," he smiles at her, disarming her glare, "you wouldn't be able to lift him and you're better with the horse. I'll go in."

Without giving her time to protest, he gently moves the girl out of his way and climbs through the broken window. Audra, realizing this is no time to argue or to complain, tosses one edge of the rope into the room and watches as Lee takes hold of it and then goes down on his hands and knees crawling toward her fallen brother. Even with the escape of the window, the smoke in the room is swirling thick around them as the fire above them increases in intensity. Watching as the man finally reaches his target, she sees him gently lift her fallen brother's chest into his arms and wrap the rope around him. Turning away she races back to the where she left the horses and with gentle words and reassurances she guides her borrowed mare toward the house where she ties the other end of the rope to the saddle horn.

As Lee begins to gently drag the barely conscious boy toward the window, he is taken back by the amount of cruelty the kid endured at the hands of his captors. He doesn't know the boy well, but he always figured he must have a pretty strong resolve to withstand the brutality he faced on a daily basis at the ranch. Staying low to the ground, he moves steadily trying to not cause the blonde more pain, but also realizing from the sounds of the popping wood above them they have very little time to get out of the basement before the whole house comes down on their heads.

As they reach the window, he is overcome by a bout of coughing just as he tugs on the rope signaling to Audra to have the horse begin to pull. Taking the boy in his arms, he slowly stands as the slack in the rope begins to lessen. Doing his best to avoid further injuring Heath, he places his hand on the back of the boy causing the boy to cry out in pain as he lifts him toward the window. As soon as the rope tightens around the young man's chest, Heath cries out again as his injured shoulder takes the brunt of force pulling him out of the window.

"I'm sorry, Heath," Lee yells between coughs, "but we gotta get you out of here. This place is about to collapse."

Guiding the horse to take slow steps backward, Audra watches as her brother's shoulders crest through the window, followed by his torso and then his legs. Stopping the horse, she quickly runs toward her fallen brother just as she sees Lee attempt to climb out of the window. Thinking quickly, she carefully unties the rope from around Heath's chest and tosses it back to Lee who uses the pull of the horse on the other end to climb out of the room. Turning her attention back to Heath, she kneels down beside him, her eyes fill with tears at the horrid bruises she sees upon his handsome face and torso. Leaning down she gently cups his cheek and places a kiss on his forehead.

"You're safe now, Heath," she whispers in his ear. "I got you big brother, and I love you. So just hold on a little longer," she cries.

Wasting no time once he makes it through the window, Lee reaches down and picks up the young man and then motions to Audra, who grabs the blanket out of the window, to follow. Half walking, half running the group barely make it to the edge of the lawn before the house begins to fall into itself taking out the frame of the basement window. Looking back, Lee and Audra both let out a loud sigh as the realization of just how close they had come to not be able to rescue Heath or potentially even themselves, comes devastatingly clear in their minds.

Reaching over, Audra grabs her brother's cuffed hand just as Heath begins violently coughing. Reacting quickly, she lays down the blanket in her arms to give Lee a place to settle Heath as he tries to steady the boy who is overcome by the smoke he inhaled. Knowing he needs water, she looks around for the frightened mare who scattered as the house collapsed and runs to her. Gently grabbing the reins, she guides the animal back to where they are settled and takes the canteen off the saddle before kneeling down beside her brother. Tears pour down his cheeks as the coughing tears through him and he tries desperately to wrap his chained hands around his ribcage. Witnessing his struggles, Audra herself is overcome with pain, sorrow, and an intense rage at those who would do such a horrendous thing to another human being. Running her fingers through Heath's hair she tries to soothe him as the coughing begins to subside and Lee lifts the canteen to his lips encouraging him to take a small sip.

Flying around the corner, Gene looks to the basement window now covered in rubble from the where the house once stood. Inching toward the burning remains he falls to his knees, overcome with grief. _I'm too late. I didn't save him._ Unashamedly, he lets out a loud scream as his eyes fill and he curls over his knees, shoulders shaking as his pain will not be contained. Nick, seeing his brother fall onto the ground, begins to run over to him but a cough to his right turns his attention to the small group huddled off, safely, to the side. Making out his sister's face, her tear-streaked cheeks, and the soot making it hard to see her normally blonde hair, his own eyes fill as he nervously moves his eyes to look at the boy being propped up by his ranch hand.

"GENE!" he yells as he races toward the small group. "GENE! They're okay!"

Gene, hearing Nick's cry in the distance, pulls himself away from his brother's tomb and looks on in disbelief as Nick runs to a small group of people. Pulling himself to his feet, he stumbles forward as the faces of those comforting each other start to clear in his mind. He realizes the ash covered girl is Audra and the man beside her is Lee, but it's not until he sees Nick gently lift the still figure laid out on the blanket in front of the other two that his heart is full and he rushes over to be near them.

"Heath," he whispers and smiles at Audra who grabs his hand. They both watch as Nick delicately lifts the semiconscious Heath's torso and lays the boy's head on his shoulder as he cups it in his hand.

"We got you, little brother," Nick whispers into Heath's ear, "and we ain't ever letting go."


	48. Chapter 48

"Lee," Nick calls as he tries to steady the shaking frame of his youngest brother against the onslaught of another coughing fit. He watches as the boy pulls his knees up towards his chest and tries to curl in on himself in order to staunch the waves of pains rippling through his body.

"You alright?" Nick asks Lee noticing for the first time the thick layer of soot covering the hand's clothing. He waits for a response before continuing on with his orders, "I need you to head back toward the barn and help Jim and my mother with our three prisoners."

"Yes sir, Nick," Lee coughs as he rises to his feet and takes a quick swig from the canteen before handing it over to Gene.

"Mother's okay?" Audra interrupts, the worry clear in her eyes.

"She's fine, Audra. She's with Jim and I know she will be glad to see you," Nick says as he reaches over and squeezes his sister's hand before turning back to Lee. "Oh, and Lee," Nick starts and then looks down at the boy in his arms. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Nick," Lee confesses. "This was all Miss Audra. If it wasn't for her we never would have found Mr. Barkley," he says to the astonishment of both her brothers, his voice full of respect.

Nick and Gene both turn toward Audra and gaze upon her with a new sense of wonderment, making the soot-covered girl blush and look away.

"Well, I'll be," Nick laughs, "You are full of surprises today, aren't you? I think when this is over I am going to need to spend some time getting to know the very capable young woman my sister has become" he beams, causing her to blush even more.

"Now, do you think you can work your magic on these cuffs?" He points to Heath's wrists and ankles and then meets the now watering eyes of his little sister, who simply nods and pulls a hairpin out of her hair. She inches over, closer to Heath's side, and very gently reaches out to turn the lock on the handcuffs toward her, causing her injured brother to groan and lean further into Nick. Hesitating for a moment a single tear escapes down her cheek as she begins to work the lock free.

"Gene," Nick calls, pulling his brother's attention away from what Audra is doing. "I need you to go get Coco and Jim's horse from the other side of the house and lead them back to the barn where Jim and Mother are. Red packed medical supplies in my saddlebags and once Audra is done I'll bring Heath back there so we can dress his wounds and then get him to a doctor."

They both look down at the sound of a click and see the lock on the cuffs open. Very gently, Audra begins to remove the iron grips holding her brother's hands together. As the cuffs give way and reveal the torn bloody wrists, she is unable to hold in a soft cry as she quickly moves her hands away. Bending down, Gene puts a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder and then takes over for her as she takes in a deep breath and moves to address the manacles on his ankles.

"They left him hanging in the center of the room," Gene angrily chokes out as he throws the offensive iron clamps out into the yard and ever so gently lays the injured limbs on his little brother's lap. Reaching over Gene runs his fingers through the blackened blonde hair and smiles as a sliver of blue can be seen peeking out underneath the heavy eyelid of Heath's one good eye.

Cupping the boy's cheek, Gene can feel the heat coming off of the blonde's body and he watches as Heath's questioning eye moves from him to Audra and then up to Nick whose broad smile sends a feeling of warmth and acceptance through the battered frame. Closing his eye, Heath tries to move forward and sit up, which only causes another round of the wretched coughing to pound his bruised chest. Without thinking he wraps one arm around his waist as the other hand instinctively comes up and grabs hold of Nick's shirt while he buries his head in his brother's chest.

Tightening his hold on the quivering boy, Nick leans down, "I got you, boy," he whispers over and over again until he hears Heath take in a cough free deep breath followed by a choked off a moan.

Gene, who was watching from the side, lifts the canteen to his brother's lips. "Slow sips, Heath," he encourages as he tilts the rim, allowing the water to flow and sooth his brother's scratchy throat. Patting the blonde's knee as he sets the canteen down beside Nick, Gene rises to his feet just as a delighted squeal is heard from Audra.

"Got it!" she yells triumphantly as she slowly removes the iron cuffs from her brother's raw ankles. The sigh that escapes his lips tells her all she needs to know about how painful the shackles had been.

"Alright, then," Nick begins, "Let's get this boy around back, fix'em up a bit and then get him over to the doc. Audra, grab these two horses. Gene…"

"I'm going, Nick. Just be careful of his shoulders and back when you lift him." Gene says as he starts off to where Coco and Jim's horse are waiting.

Watching Gene go, Audra jumps up, picks up the rifle and the canteen from the ground where she left it, and heads over to her borrowed mare and the stallion Lee rode in on. She gathers up their reins and speaks softly in their ears, as she again is careful to keep them far away from the fire still raging in the distance. With ease, she begins to lead them back to barn area where the others are waiting.

"Heath," Nick looks down to the boy in his arms and smiles when he sees the one blue eye looking back at him. "I know you don't like it but I'm going to pick you up and take…," he pauses at the controlled shaking of his brother's head.

"I... can... walk," Heath whispers, his voice is weak and raspy. Shifting slightly, he begins to try and rise out of Nick's arms but the pain in his shoulders, chest, and back causes him to cry out which leads to another round of coughing. Laying his head back on Nick's shoulder, he feels his arm tighten around him and he feeds off his brother's strength.

"I know you can little brother," Nick encourages in a soft voice filled with the type of kindness only his family knows he possesses. He can see the determination in the blonde's eyes and realizes it is probably this type of grit that has kept this boy alive all these years. "But how about you let your big brother do the work for now. You're not alone anymore, Heath. Lean on us for a little bit."

Nick watches as confusion spreads across Heath's face as he stares up into the hazel eyes trying to decipher if the sincerity he hears is real. Heath knows in this pain-filled fevered state he is vulnerable to the desires of his heart, the desire for this family to really want him, he just doesn't know if he should take the chance. Regardless, he realizes he is not going anywhere on his own so he gives Nick a small nod. A moment later he feels an arm slide under his knees as the one across his back very gently wraps around the side of his chest before he feels himself being lifted into the air. Relaxing into his brother's arms he decides to try and trust this man, his big brother.

* * *

"I can't believe it was Molly!" Fred shakes his head as he quickly dismounts and walks over to where Frank is standing. "And you really think Buddy, Buddy Tyrone, was responsible for all these murders?"

Franks nods his head as he looks over to the other lawman. They have just arrived at the spot where Alpha and Jarrod parted ways with Nick and Jim last night and decided to let the horses rest before figuring out which way to go from here. As they started to slow their pace, Frank had begun to fill Fred in on all that happened while he was in Sacramento.

"Yep and something else that happened over three years ago, around the same time Thomas Barkley was murdered." Frank walks over to examine the tracks on the ground. He can see two sets of tracks leading away from the main group, headed toward the ranch and then he notices two sets of tracks coming toward them. He walks over to get a better look.

"Nooo, I just can't believe it. I mean Buddy was such a good kid and the Barkleys are like family to him." Fred stops in his tracks. Noticing what Frank is looking at, he keeps his distance not wanting to disturb the story the ground has to tell.

"Well, you better start believing it cuz I'm telling you he's the one responsible for all of these killings. I just can't figure out why." Frank answers as he stands up and looks in the opposite direction of the ranch. Walking back to the area where the men had camped last night, he sees the signs of the ambush Fred told him about and then he walks over to the outer rim of the campsite.

Alpha, who has been standing back not wanting to get in the way of the experienced lawmen, leads the horses over to a good patch of grass where they can graze as the two officers talk. Looking up toward the sky he sends a silent prayer to the heavens that they are not too late to save Heath or the other Barkleys from the apparent madman in their midst. Bringing his head back down he looks out toward the horizon and notices a shadow reaching up toward the sky. As the shadow grows, alarms start sounding off in his head and he quickly runs over to the two more experienced older men.

"Uh, Frank, Fred," he calls to them getting their attention, "Do you all see that black cloud over yonder? Looks like it could be smoke."

Looking up from the ground, both men follow Alpha's gaze over to the cloud rising in the sky.

"What's over there?" Frank asks Fred as he looks down at the tracks below him and begins walking out in the direction of the smoke. "From the looks of these tracks, someone came riding in hard this morning and then a group followed not long after that. Then just a couple of hours or so ago, two more horses headed off in that direction."

"Millers farm," Fred answers and then quickly adds, "It's been abandoned for five years and it would be a good place to hide out."

"Well, gentlemen," Frank yells running over to his horse. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

* * *

'Well, well, well, what did I tell you, Jarrod!" Buddy looks over at the scowling gagged and bound man beside him. "I just knew those two were useless. Look at the mess they made!" He laughs and then laughs harder as he sees the piercing look glaring out at him.

The two had arrived just a few moments ago and witnessed Nick gently carrying Heath back to meet the others over near the barn. From his vantage point, he can see the Simmons and one Haskin brother kneeling on the ground with their hands tied behind their backs. From what he can make out it looks like Matt Simmons has been shot in the shoulder, not a huge loss considering his ineptness. The one good news for him and the task he was sent here to complete is that all of the Barkleys are present and are nicely preoccupied with caring for their bastard.

Ducking back down behind the shrubs that have them hidden, he looks over at the highly agitated Jarrod and reaches up and pats him on the cheek. He knows he has very little time to complete the job he has been paid for as the fire basically sent up a huge black smoke flare calling out to anyone in the vicinity to hurry to them. Regardless, he knows that he has to have all of them together in order to get what he came for before he kills them. In the end, it just looks like he will have to kill a few extra folks, a proposition he doesn't mind one bit.

Grabbing Jarrod underneath his arm, he roughly pulls the man onto his feet and places his Colt up against the lawyer's temple.

"Alright Jarrod, it's time for you to do your part and maybe you'll be able to save your family," he lies.


	49. Chapter 49

His eyes settle on the distant figure carefully carrying the boy he loves like a son over to the blanket that has been freshly laid upon the ground by the matriarch of the family. He watches with admiration as Victoria gently places another folded blanket under Heath's head as they settle him on his left side. He can see her running her fingers through the blonde locks as she whispers in the boy's ear, words he can only assume are soothing words of comfort, asking the blonde to trust in her, in his new family. It is a sight that warms his heart. Heath deserves some peace after all of the battles he has suffered throughout his young life.

Unaware of the smile spreading across his face he turns back toward Lee, who is standing guard next to the now bound villains. It didn't take long for him and Victoria to secure their three prisoners who were each crippled by their newly acquired injuries. The bullet that stayed true and hollowed through Matt's shoulder only tore through muscle and even though the spineless man cried like a baby, Jim is certain he will live at least long enough to be hung. Clay's broken nose was nice and swollen leaving the young man dazed, but fully aware of the gun at his temple daring him to put up a fight as the lawman bound his wrists. And then, of course, there is Martha. He looks over at the oddly quiet maniac and can't help but smile as he walks over and double checks the binding wrapped securely around Martha's jaw and head. _What's that old saying, something about never poking the mama bear when her cubs are near._ He shakes his head chuckling, thinking about the broken jaw Martha sustained in her fight with Mrs. Victoria Barkley. _Nick's just a cub compared to her! A testament to the power of a mother's love,_ he thinks before turning back to look over to where Heath is lying. He sees that Gene has arrived with their horses and is getting the medical supplies out of Nick's saddlebags.

"Ya know," Lee starts, walking over to the larger man, "I can watch these three if ya want to go over and check on Heath for yourself."

"I'm that obvious huh?" Jim laughs as Lee nods at him. "Thanks," he says before turning and heading over to the huddled group.

Four heads turn towards him and without question Gene stands up and moves to the backside of Heath next to Audra, letting the lawman bend down in front of the blonde's legs. He looks down at Heath whose eyes are closed and takes in the deep bruising, swollen features, and raspy breathing. The thin film of sweat covering the shaky figure screams of fever, infection, and he can barely control his fury when he sees the oozing bloody lacerations on the boy's back. Taking in a deep breath, he doesn't even notice as his hands instinctively ball into fists or his legs begin to rise until a hand on his shoulder brings him back to the present and he looks up into the fiery hazel eyes of Nick Barkley. He can see the camaraderie burning back at him. They would avenge Heath, together they would make sure those who did this pay.

"Hey, Heath boy," Jim quietly calls trying to conceal the crack in his voice as the rage burns within him. "What are you doing scaring the tar out of me like that?" he tries to joke as he reaches down and places his hand on the boy's knee, giving it a gentle pat, and is rewarded with a small crooked smile.

"Jim," Heath whispers, the small smile remaining. The comfort he feels in this man's presence is clear to all of them and surprisingly for the Barkleys they no longer feel a pang of jealousy but instead, it brings them a sense of peace. They are glad Heath has had men like Jim and Frank in his life, to help him, to guide him.

"You just hold tight, son and let your family help you," he says as he looks up to meet their eyes. Looking back at him in an array of hazel, browns, and blues is the determination they each feel. Even Mrs. Barkley, he can see has taken this blond boy into her heart. He smiles at them and gives them each a silent thank you.

"I'm going to get the wagon ready," he chokes out, full of emotion, looking back at Heath. "We'll get you over to the doc so he can fix you up," he finishes as he stands and sees the one blue eye watching him. He smiles down at the boy just as he feels the all too familiar feeling of metal tearing through his chest, lifting him off the ground, and slamming into the compact dirt below him.

Watching in horror as Jim is picked up and propelled backward landing hard against the ground, the small group, except for Heath, all turn to look for where the deadly projectile came from. Heath instinctively lunges forward trying to reach his fallen friend but falls short as the infection ravaging his right side refuses to be denied and sends excruciating waves of mind-numbing pain through him. Gasping, falling back onto his left side, he reaches out toward Jim, trying to call his name but only faint whispers are able to break through the darkness threatening him just as the echo of the shot finally reaches them along with the familiar voice it is accompanied by.

"I got a better idea, lawman!" Buddy yells. "How about you just die!"

Jumping up with their guns drawn, Nick and Gene quickly turn to meet Buddy head on only to have their breath catch as they see the shield he has protecting him. Jarrod is positioned directly in front of their old friend, his hands are tied behind his back and his mouth is gagged. Buddy's left arm is wrapped around his shoulder with a small blade in the left hand positioned at his throat. With his right hand, Buddy is keeping his colt pointed directly at Jarrod's temple. Keeping their guns steady, the two men watch as Buddy pushes Jarrod closer to them.

"I'd hold your fire if you want your brother to continue living!" Buddy ridicules. "And that includes you." He points the gun toward Lee and presses the knife deeper into Jarrod's neck causing a small trickle of blood to form. Lee holds steady watching for a sign from Nick as to what he would like for him to do.

"Come on," he shouts at Lee, "I have no problem putting a bullet in you. Now drop it!"

Nick nods in confirmation to his loyal hand and Lee drops the gun to the ground.

Victoria watches as the scene unfolds and holds in her own gasp as she looks around Gene to see her oldest son in Buddy's grasp. Taking in a calming breath, she looks back to the unmoving Jim and then glances down at Heath, who is staring absently at the fallen man, a lost look in his eye. Taking his hand in her own, she squeezes gently just as Buddy starts to call out his demands.

"Now that that is taken care of," he pauses as he hears Nick growl, bringing a smile to his face, "if everyone else would please toss their weapons to the side. Including you, Audra, you can lower that rifle to the ground. Don't think I have forgotten how well you can shoot."

Audra looks to Nick and Gene who aren't moving and remains steadfast like her brothers, holding the rifle firmly in her hand.

"I see," Buddy pushes Jarrod closer. "Maybe if I kill the bastard you all seem to be so attached to all of the sudden that will help to convince you I'm serious!" He points his gun in their direction cocking it back, causing both brothers to react by dropping their guns to the ground, followed soon after by Audra.

"Buddy," Victoria calls out. Gently lying Heath's hand back down, she rises up and stares at her godson. This boy, who she helped raise, who she loves as if he were her own son is now the cause of all of their pain. "Whatever trouble you have found yourself in, let us help you."

"Help me?" he scoffs, "You think I need help! You sound just like my father!"

"I know this isn't you." She takes a step toward him. "We are your family. Now please, whatever has happened we will help you. You don't have to do this."

For a second Buddy looks down and the knife slightly lowers from Jarrod's neck giving them all room to pause and to hope their mother may have been able to get through to this man, who was once like a brother to them. But it is only for a second.

"You're right, Aunt Victoria," Buddy smiles and licks his lips before tightening his grip on Jarrod. "I don't **have** to do this. I **want** to do this. This is exactly who I am. How did you think I was making money back east? I've been doing exactly this for the last four years." He stops and laughs at the look of horror on their faces.

"I guess I'm not surprised you didn't know, my father did try to do a good job covering for me. Like poor little Miss Molly. If my father had just let me kill her then she wouldn't have been locked away. As a matter of fact," he glances down at Heath, "if it wasn't for that I never would have enlisted the help of the Simmons. That was all my father's fault. You should all be glad I killed him."

"You killed your father?" Audra cries out in disbelief.

"I sure did," he states proudly, relishing the memory. "I sat right in front of him and watched the light vanish from his eyes. I literally watched his soul seep from his body. It's a beautiful thing, death."

He looks out over the family that once called him one of their own and can see the disgust looking back at him. A disgust that satisfies his desires and makes the prospect of killing them so much more inviting.

"Now shall we continue? Please kick your guns away from you," he calls out and watches as they oblige before he turns to Gene. "Gene, be a good friend and help your hand untie those three." He waves his gun over to where the Simmons are sitting and then watches as Gene first checks with Nick before walking over and helping Lee untie their three prisoners.

No one dares to move as Gene and Lee make quick work of the ropes tied around the Simmons and Clay's hands. With their hands-free, the group slowly rises to their feet and look to Buddy for direction as they stand fearful of the repercussions for their actions.

"Well, tie them up," Buddy yells at the three and points towards the Barkleys. "Thanks to you we haven't got all day. Now hurry up!"

Grabbing some rope and wearing a smile of revenge, Clay and Martha grab Lee and Gene and push them toward the others hoping to pacify their leader into not killing them for their selfish action. Matt follows slowly behind the other two, gripping his arm tightly, whimpering along the way. As they approach the other group, they push Gene and Lee on to their knees and are met with the enraged glare of Nick whose anger is tipping over to the point he is barely able to stop himself from ripping them apart with his bare hands. Martha sneers back, giggling, with drool dripping down her chin as she roughly grabs hold of Victoria, forcing her in front of Heath where she begins tying her hands together. Clay does the same to Audra, leaving the Barkleys lined up and on their knees in front of the very still and very quiet Heath.

With all of their hands tightly tied behind their backs, Buddy pushes Jarrod down in front of the group and removes the gag from his mouth, which causes Jarrod to cough and spit a few times into the ground beside him. Placing the knife back into a holster attached to his belt, Buddy reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out a plain envelope that he waves in front of the family for dramatic effect before opening it and pulling out what Jarrod instantly recognizes as a legal document of some kind.

"I'm sure you are all curious as to why you have found…," he pauses and looks back toward the whimpering Matt who is standing behind him. Glaring at the pathetic man until he stops, he turns back to face the family and starts again. "Why you have found yourself in this predicament and as one might suspect it is your wealth and influence that have landed you here. As a courtesy to our family's connection…" he stops again as this causes Nick to laugh. Walking over to stand directly in front of the proud man, he grabs his chin and forces him to look at him, "Yes, a courtesy. Make no mistake, no one else in my profession would have bothered to allow any of you to live. As it is I hold in my hand a way for Aunt Victoria and Audra to walk away. All you boys have to do is sign it."


	50. Chapter 50

"A will?" Jarrod holds up the document in his now freed hands and turns toward Buddy who is pacing off to the side allowing his newly armed sidekicks to keep his hostages in place. "I don't understand. You're doing all of this just to steal our money, our investments?" Jarrod questions, his voice dripping with contempt.

Shaking his head, he looks over toward his family, all lined up and kneeling, apparently waiting for their slaughter. He can see the tears pouring down Audra's cheeks and the stoic resolve his mother is keeping, giving her outward appearance a visage of calm. Nick is holding his head high with his eyes burrowing into Jarrod's full of intent. He can tell his younger brother is determined to remain seemingly unphased by the danger Buddy represents to all of them, while Gene's fear shines through his eyes.

"Well, I do have to get paid," Buddy responds walking over to stand behind the group and at the head of the still unmoving Heath. "My services aren't free and my client is specifically interested in aspects of your wealth."

"This Woolf Trust," Jarrod surmises, "is that your client?"

"It is," Buddy answers squatting down staring at Heath. He leans forward and hovers over the boy's ear. "I would gladly put you out of your misery but I promised you to your aunt," he whispers but gets no reaction.

"Leave **him** alone," Nick growls, turning slightly to see what Buddy is doing, an action that causes the hired killer to smile and then slowly pull his knife from its sheath. Waving the bowie knife in front of Nick's eyes, he gradually places the sharp blade along the side of Heath's neck drawing a thin line of blood, taunting Nick.

"And just who is Woolf Trust?" Jarrod yells, interrupting Buddy's fun. "And why do they want our land?" he asks, flipping through the document once more, trying to get the attention away from his family.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Buddy's eyes never leave Nick's as he slowly pulls the blade away from the boy's neck and expertly slips it back into his sheath and unholsters his gun as a sadistic smile spreads across his face. Without warning, he roughly pushes Heath onto his injured back, causing him to cry out and arch his back in pain. Laughing, he fails to notice as Nick, hands tied, lunges himself onto the would be killer pushing him back onto the ground with such force, Buddy's colt flies from his hand. Seeing their opportunity, Jarrod goes to move forward only to have Clay wrap his arm around his neck and shove the barrel of his gun hard against his temple. Gene jumps up and in one swoop tackles the confused Matt, knocking his gun to the ground as the drunken, wounded man puts up no resistance. Seeing her chance, Victoria goes to rise but is pulled up short as the harrowing sound of a single bullet is heard piercing the air and the unmistakable sound of someone falling hard on the ground follows.

Looking up, Victoria frantically searches for the faces of her children only to choke back tears as her eyes fall upon her only daughter. Speckled in hues of red, Audra stares almost catatonic at the figure lying lifeless at her knees. Lee, their loyal hand, a man whom over the years had proven his worth time and time again, had given his life to protect her youngest child.

In front of her daughter stands the glaring figure of Martha Simmons, drool dripping down her smiling chin and a smoking gun nestled in her hand pointed directly toward Audra's forehead.

"He saved me," Audra cries, unable to pull her gaze away from the dead man. "She..she was going to shoot me and...and he jumped right in front of me." She cries harder, looking up towards her mother, fresh tears pouring out of her eyes causing red streaks to run down her cheeks.

"Why would he do that?" She leans over and drops her head to her mother's shoulder releasing her guilt.

Her own armor shattered by the dejected look in her daughter's eye, Victoria fights desperately against her restraints wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around her child.

"Because he was a good man," Victoria chokes out allowing her own emotions to show, "an honorable man."

She turns toward Martha, who slightly cowers at the strength shining through the matriarch's eyes. A strength that says they will pay for what they have done here.

The sound of the gunshot has a paralyzing effect on all those surrounding the grievous scene, as each brother pauses to search for family, giving their attackers a chance to take back the upper hand. Clay, who already has the advantage over Jarrod, simply tightens his grip, snarling in the unimpressed lawyer's ear. Buddy makes quick work of the distracted Nick, sending a boot barreling into the unsuspecting man's chest causing him to fly backward onto his bound hands. With the weight removed from on top of him, Buddy quickly jumps up and grabs hold of his colt pointing it at the dark-haired rancher. Only Gene was left untouched, as Matt continues to whimper pathetically about his injured shoulder leaving the young Barkley unsure of what to do next. He doesn't dare make a move that can jeopardize his family.

"ENOUGH!" Buddy yells as he starts to walk around to the other side of Nick, in between him and Gene. Angrily he begins waving his gun absently around at each of his intended victims before settling his aim at the still whimpering Matt Simmons. "You useless garbage!" he screams before releasing a lethal shot into the pitiful man. He glances over at Martha who is standing frozen in place, wide-eyed, staring at her now deceased husband.

"You got a problem with that?" he asks her, motioning with his hand to the dead man while raising his gun to point directly at the woman who is now vehemently shaking her head no.

"Good," he finishes before stepping over to Nick who is rising onto his knees. Smiling down at the larger man, he condescendingly pats him on the cheek. "I forgot just how tough you are," he says before grabbing the man under the arm and pushing him toward Jarrod, causing Nick to face plant into the ground. "Come on now, get on over there with your brother," he yells, kicking the rancher twice in the side. "We ain't got all day."

Clawing into the earth as he tries to regulate his breathing, Heath turns his head toward the commotion just as his uncle falls lifeless to the ground. He watches him fall with a look of surprise forever plastered on his drunken face and it sends a wave of sadness through him. He has hated that man for most of his life. Between the name calling and the beatings, his uncle was a constant tormentor in his formative years, and yet, as he falls, another piece of Heath's life is gone. Whether good or bad, his life in Strawberry, before the Barkleys, will soon be fully gone.

Tearing his eyes away from his uncle's dead face, he sees Gene looking around confused as to what to do and can hear Audra's cries as she lays her forehead on her mother's shoulder taking in the soothing words that hardly replace the tight embrace the girl craves. He certainly doesn't miss the sneering look in the haunting eyes of his aunt as Buddy turns his head away from her and he sends a silent prayer to the heavens that she does something stupid to help put an end to all of this. He then dares to take another look toward the man who took him into his home and gave him the first sense of what a father should be like and imagines him breathing.

Sinking back into the ground, Heath looks up towards the blue sky and watches as the white clouds pass overhead. He wishes, for just a moment, he could be carried away by them. That he could join his family and finally be free of the pain that has shaped his life for as far back as he can remember. Closing his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the constant pain each movement brings, he tries to picture his mother, her hair, her eyes, her smile. He tries to recreate her laugh, her voice, all of the things that brought him comfort in the most trying of times. He tries desperately to get lost in the memories of before and to let the darkness take him until he hears Buddy's heckling of Nick, which oddly, but instantly ignites an intense fury that crawls into his limbs. Reaching out with his left arm, looking for leverage to push himself up, his fingers brush against a familiar form.

"Here's the deal," Buddy starts as he walks around the kneeling Jarrod and Nick before heading over to Gene and roughly dragging him over beside his brothers. He nods to Clay who is standing firmly behind the three with his gun pointed at the lawyer's head. "If you want your mother and sister to be able to leave this place, agree to assume new identities and most importantly be allowed to live out the rest of their lives, then **all** of you must sign this document."

He walks over to Jarrod and pulls out a pen from his pocket. "Starting with you, Jarrod"

"You honestly think that this won't be questioned?" Jarrod asks, looking at Buddy doubtfully. "There are others who know you are responsible for all of this. They will stop you."

Buddy walks over and stands in front of Jarrod, turning slightly so that that lawyer's gaze can fall upon Victoria and Audra, who are huddled together as best as they can be. "Right now, I would be more worried about them than about how I plan to pull this off. I don't think those oblivious to what has happened here would really question the mighty Barkleys leaving their possessions to someone they considered a relative."

"YOU REALLY ARE CLUELESS!" Nick roars getting the exact reaction he desires out of Buddy, who steps over and backhands the bound man.

"YOU'RE REALLY WILL…," he starts to say, turning toward the women, but instead finds himself looking into brightly burning azure eyes that are dead set on revenge.

With the rifle Audra had placed on the ground nestled in his arms, Heath doesn't hesitate to aim and fire sending one deadly projectile square into the forehead of the cocky killer who needed only to be removed from this earth. The force of the kickback into his recently relocated right shoulder sends the blonde to his knees as he tries to bring the rifle back up and protect this family from Clay and his aunt. He had known this was a risky move when he had felt the familiar feel of the metal barrel beside him, but it was a risk he was willing to take if it gave his stepmother and siblings a small chance of survival.

Fighting through the pain and the blessed darkness threatening to take him, he awkwardly tries to swing the rifle back into position just as he sees his aunt aim her colt at him. A popping sound is the last thing he hears as he loses the battle and falls to the ground. His last conscious thought as his eyes close is that he hopes the Barkleys are able to get away and that he can't wait to see his mother.


	51. Chapter 51

The billowing darkness rising from the crumbled remains of the once dilapidated farmhouse spreads high into the sky serving as the perfect backdrop to the lone gunman holding his smoking revolver pointed now at nothing but air. He had arrived just in time to fire off a single shot and stop Martha Simmons from enacting her final revenge against a boy whose only crime was being born. _It feels good_ , Frank has to admit to himself. It is something he has thought about many times after listening to Jim tell the stories of how the Simmons treated Heath since the day he was born. But, his morals, his conscience, would not allow him to carry out an act of vigilante revenge. Well, that and the fact they had both been locked away in secure prisons.

Keeping his gun steady, he quickly runs over to the prone woman to make sure she is indeed dead before turning and taking in the rest of the scene. He watches as Jarrod uses his surprise shot to grab hold of his captor's wrist and twist hard, forcing the young man to drop his gun. He smiles as the lawyer stands to his full height and unleashes a few well-deserved blows on the now stunned gunman, before handing the man over to Fred and then setting out to free his brothers. Knowing that the situation is under control, Frank takes one more look at the barren eyes that once housed insanity before reholstering his gun and pulling out his sheathed knife. Walking over to Victoria and Audra he gently cuts through the ropes keeping them apart and then steps behind them as Audra falls, crying into her mother's arms.

Kneeling down beside the blonde boy who had been his loyal, somewhat impulsive, deputy, he gently places a hand on the bruised chest and feels relief wash through him at the steady rise and fall he feels. _He's still with us_ , he thinks as he begins to catalog all of Heath's injuries and begins to wish he could kill the Simmons all over again. A hand on his shoulder brings him back to the present and he looks up to see Victoria kneeling beside him and Audra sitting across from him laying out the medical supplies they had removed from Nick's saddlebags earlier beside a bucket of water from the well. Nodding to the two women, he goes to stand just as he sees Alpha run past the small group and throw himself onto the still chest of his uncle.

"Uncle Jim!" the boy cries, reaching up and shaking the seemingly lifeless man. "Please, Uncle Jim, you can't be dead!" he yells, his despair weakening the knees of those around him.

Stepping around Victoria, Frank heads over to the young man now draped across his uncle and places both hands on Alpha's shoulders. It takes a minute for him to be able to look at his good friend, one of his best friends, for even he doesn't want to believe the man who always seems larger than life (both figuratively and literally) is gone. As he pulls Alpha off, he pauses for a moment confused by what he sees. The man's shirt is still a light tan, not covered in a dark hue of red as he suspected it would be. As he stares at the man's chest, he swears he sees it move.

"Hang on," he says as he roughly pushes the confused Alpha off to the side and looks at the downed lawman's face. Turning it slightly to the right, he sees a deep gash moving up from just below the temple toward the top of Jim's head leaving the side of his face bruised and bloody. Yes, the wound bled and bled in a way only head wounds can, leaving a nice pool of red mixing in with the dirt below.

Thinking quickly, Frank places two fingers on his friend's neck and then can't help but scream, "Boy Howdy!" as he feels the steady rhythm pounding below.

"Well you are one lucky bastard!" he laughs unable to stop the tears filling his eyes. He grabs hold of Alpha, who is looking from him to Jim for some type of confirmation as to what just happened, and pulls him into a bear hug.

"He's alive, Alpha," Frank tells the young man who quickly hugs him back.

Looking back to the Barkleys, who are now all huddled around Heath, he smiles wide as he repeats the good news. "It looks like the bullet ricocheted off his badge and grazed his head. He's lost a lot of blood but he's alive, and I aim to keep him that way. Let's get these two patched up and headed to the doctor," he says and it is a sentiment that is shared by everyone.

Moving quickly, Gene gets up, grabs a canteen and some bandages, and then heads over to Jim, knowing that one wound will be faster to patch up than the myriad of wounds on Heath. Motioning to Alpha to come to help him, he has him sit down at the head of his uncle and gently lift it into his lap so that he can begin to wash out the wound and bandage it. While Gene works on Jim, Victoria and Audra, with Nick's help, turn Heath onto his left side and begin to wash out the slashes on the blonde's back with soap and water before placing bandages across them. With each move of the cloth, they can feel him shift slightly, subconsciously trying to escape the pain.

As they work to get the two men ready to be transported, Frank, Jarrod, and Fred begin the grim task of collecting the dead. Leaving the Simmons and Buddy far off to the side, Jarrod and Fred gently wrap Lee in a blanket they found in the barn, before tying off both ends with rope.

"He saved Audra," Jarrod proclaims wanting to honor the fallen hand. "Martha went to shoot her, in all the confusion, and he jumped in front of the bullet saving her. He didn't even hesitate."

"He was a good man," Fred adds, "always polite and helpful. His family will take solace in knowing he died saving someone."

Jarrod agrees as they carefully lift the man and place him into the wagon. With only one wagon, it had been decided that the first trip would carry Heath, Jim, and Lee back to Stockton and that Frank and Fred would stay behind with the rest to wait for another buckboard to transport the rest, both living and dead.

"Did Buddy give you any idea why he did this?" Fred asks as the two men start to walk back over to Frank, who is standing guard over Clay.

"He was hired to," Jarrod answers and is a little surprised by the lack of reaction from Fred given that the man has also known Buddy for most of his life.

"So I guess what Frank said is true." Fred looks up at Jarrod and the two men pause in their steps. "That he was a hired gun."

"It looks that way," Jarrod shakes his head and pulls the will Buddy gave him out of his pocket, handing it to Fred to look at. He had quickly picked it up off the ground after he overpowered Clay, knowing how important this piece of evidence will be in uncovering who is behind all of this. "Now the big question is who hired him."

"Indeed," Fred agrees as he looks over the papers. "He really thought no one would question this? I mean your Uncle Jim would surely have contested this in courts? And with his father being a judge, Buddy knew the way the laws work."

"Those were my thoughts as well." Jarrod rubs his hands over his face and looks over to his family gathered around Heath taking great care to dress his wounds probably. "More questions than answers. I plan to hire the Pinkerton agency to look into this, but for now, I need to get my family out of here and everyone checked out by Howard."

"That includes you, Jarrod." Fred pats his friend on the arm noticing the fatigue setting in. "You have all been through a lot in the last week. You head on into town and I will make sure to have a few deputies stationed at Dr. Merar's until you all head back to the ranch."

Watching as Nick gently lifts Heath into his arms and as Gene jumps in the back of the wagon and positions himself to be able to hold onto their unconscious new brother, Jarrod quietly responds, "I'm afraid it might be a while before we are able to go home."

Following Jarrod's gaze, Fred nods in agreement and then places his hand on Jarrod's shoulder, "He seems like a strong boy, Jarrod. He'll be okay."

"I hope so, Fred. He just saved all of our lives and I owe him a big apology."

* * *

 **Note:** I may have taken some liberties with physics but according to Mythbusters the scenario with the bullet ricocheting off of the badge is plausible. :)


	52. Chapter 52

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting, I was sick with the flu. The next chapter is almost done and should be up soon. Thank you again for reading.

* * *

The gathering of darkened clouds casts a canopy over the weary travelers as the wagon slowly makes its way down the busy streets of Stockton toward Dr. Merar's office. Impervious to the looks, the whispers, and the pointing of the city's citizens, the entourage slowly continues its delicate pace trying not to jostle their precious cargo more than necessary. In the few hours it has taken them to cross the ten miles that separate the now burned out farmhouse and the edges of the bustling city, Heath's fever has risen and Jim's incoherent mumbling has grown more consistent. And, while the mumbling of the once assumed dead lawman brings a flutter of joy to each of their hearts, especially Alpha's, the listlessness of the recently found and accepted son and brother wraps them in a ribbon of uncertainty and fear.

Heath had saved them. He had ignored his own pain and weakness and rose up to meet an impossible challenge giving them the only way out of a dire situation. There is not one Barkley riding in or beside the wagon that does not acknowledge and admire the bravery, the resolve, and the character of their new family member. Who, even after being shot, beaten, and almost crushed under the weight of a burning house, somehow found the strength to stand up and fire the killing shot, delivering to them the only chance they had to get free from their captors. He did this even after all they have put him through since he came to them. Intentional or not, they all accept blame in his forced isolation and that fact now weighs heavily on their hearts and minds.

Nudging the horses forward, Victoria gently picks up the speed as she eyes the doctor's shingle only a few blocks ahead. Taking a quick glance back into the bed of the wagon she sees Gene gently wiping Heath's forehead and neck with a cloth dampened with water from the canteen. She can see the love Gene feels for his little brother and wonders when this deep bond developed between them. _Was it only in the last week, as Heath lay injured. After we realized we had all but ignored this boy now living under our roof?_ She ponders. Meeting Gene's eyes she sees the worry engulfing them. Her mother's instinct is to try and reassure her child, so she gives him a delicate smile.

"We're are almost there, Gene," she says, her voice unwavering. "He'll be alright. You'll see."

Turning back she glances over at Audra, who has been oddly quiet for most of the trip. She can see the pools of tears hanging tight to her dark eyelashes and she knows that a piece of her daughter's carefree nature died today. It died with Lee, the brave hand who saved her from certain death. _Damn them, all of them,_ she thinks, her anger threatening to become vocal, her grip tightening on the reins she holds.

Seeing his mother's knuckles turn white, Jarrod takes a closer look at the woman he respects above all others and notices the tenseness in her shoulders. Maneuvering Jingo closer to the wagon, he is able to catch his mother's attention. He knows that the events of this week will haunt them all for some time to come and can only imagine how the protective nature of a parent must compound the feelings running through all of them.

"We will get through this," Jarrod says loud enough for only her to hear over the creaking of the rickety wagon. His sincere voice echoes through her filling her with warmth and for a second she believes his words and her own words to Gene only moments ago. She smiles up at him and searches his eyes for any hint of worry. Finding none, she reaches over and takes his offered hand in her own, squeezing it tightly before releasing it and placing hers back within the leather reins.

"I know we will. Together, as a family, we will make it through this." Her eyes shift to the back of the wagon. "All of us."

"Yes." he agrees, "and I promise that we'll find out who is behind this and make sure they are brought to justice," he pauses looking back at his brothers, "Then I say we properly welcome Heath. He has more than proven himself to be a Barkley. I think it is time we let him know that. Don't you?"

"Oh, yes Jarrod. I most certainly do," she says through tears and feels her heart lift slightly at these words.

Seeing that they are about to reach their destination, Jarrod signals over to Nick and then brings Jingo to a trot reaching the doctor's office before the wagon. Nick follows suit and pulls Coco up beside his brother. They both quickly dismount and tether the horses to the hitching rail off to the side of the doctor's front door. Jarrod heads into the office to make sure the doctor is in while Nick watches his mother expertly back the wagon up to the walkway in front so that they can easily transport the injured men inside.

Running over to the side of the wagon as it comes to a stop, Nick offers his hand to his mother as she climbs down and then goes to the other side and does the same for his dazed sister. As Audra's feet touch the ground, Nick takes a moment to pull her into a comforting brotherly hug, one that only Nick Barkley can give. With his strong arms wrapped protectively around her, he uses his pull, as only a big brother can, to let her know she is not alone. Releasing her, he gently grasps her face between his palms taking care to wipe away the now falling tears with the tips of his thumbs. Face to face, their eyes lock and she gives him a small smile that doesn't reach her eyes and mouths a silent thank you before they both turn away to be of help to the others.

Making their way to the back of the wagon they are met by Jarrod and Dr. Merar who have just stepped out of his office. The doctor immediately takes in the scene before him. The two injured men, the exhausted and bruised Gene, a boy the physician does not know but is obviously terrified about the prognosis of the man beside him, and then the still form of a life cut short at the hands of maniacs. He shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh before setting his bag down on the tail end of the buckboard.

"Jarrod," he says looking up at the man beside him. His heart is heavy with the request he must ask of them, knowing that the person swaddled in the blanket was more than likely one of their employees. "Would you and Nick move the deceased off to the side? Once we are done here we can make sure the body is taken over to the mortuary."

Taking in the doctor's request, Jarrod nods at Nick who moves away from Audra and over to the side of the wagon. Placing his hands under the shoulders of his friend, Nick waits for Jarrod to grab the man's legs before together they solemnly lift him out of the wagon. An audible sob escapes Audra's lips as the body of her hero is moved off to the side of the wagon. Seeing her daughter's distress, Victoria moves over and wraps her arms around the young girl, extending the love of a mother in comfort, wishing she could erase the last few days from her daughter's memory.

Not one to dally, the doctor quickly climbs up into the wagon and begins to assess the injuries to both downed men. He first goes to Heath, who is pale and shivering from what his trained eyes perceive to be the effects of a high fever. He lays the back of his hand across the boy's forehead trying to gauge the temperature of the heat radiating from him. Taking out his stethoscope he listens carefully to his breathing and then checks his heart rate and pulse. Frowning slightly, he looks down at the new bandage around the slim waist.

"What can you tell me, Gene?" He looks up into the eyes of the young man holding onto his brother, his face also showing the signs of bruising. Gene had recently confided in him his change in trajectory when it comes to his chosen career path, so he knows he is the best person to ask.

"Well," Gene starts. Taking in a deep breath he wipes the sweat off his forehead as he works to gather his thoughts so that he can neatly catalog his brother's injuries. "He has deep lacerations on his back, caused from a knife," he pauses seeing the doctor wince slightly at the cruelty they endured. "I think the bullet wound is infected. Its red and swollen and oozing through the stitches. I cleaned it best I could but I wasn't sure what else to do," he takes in a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure he has three broken ribs and his right shoulder was dislocated but I was able to move it back into place."

"I didn't know you knew how to do that, Gene," Jarrod interrupts, his pride for his younger brother showing through his eyes.

Embarrassed at having not told his brother he switched from law to medicine, Gene just nods but keeps his eyes toward Heath. He watches as Dr. Merar places his stethoscope back in his bag and then looks up at Nick and Jarrod.

"If you gentlemen," he motions to the two oldest brothers, "would please carefully take Heath into the exam room. Ida is in there and she can begin cleaning him up while I take a look at this man." He points toward Jim, whose cloudy eyes are now open and trying to focus on Heath.

"He's going to be okay, right doc?" Nick eagerly asks as he steps forward. The rest of the Barkleys perk up at this question.

Looking into the faces of the family surrounding him, the ever-cautious doctor knows that what he is about to say is not what this family wants to hear.

"I'll know more once we get him inside and I can take a closer look at his wounds. Right now, he is running a high fever which leads me to believe one or more of his wounds are infected. The sooner I can get the wounds cleaned properly the better his chances will be."

Without another word, Nick steps up into the wagon bed and switches places with the doctor so that he can lift Heath up into his arms. He takes a few steps over to the end of the wagon and carefully lowers Heath down to be supported by Jarrod who knows better than to get in the way of Nick when he is in his protective mode. Jumping down, Nick politely edges his unresistant brother over as he once again scoops the blonde into his arms allowing Heath's head to lay on his shoulder.

"I got'em, Jarrod. Boy don't weigh nothing," Nick says as a way of apologizing but the whole family realizes that he has taken this boy into his heart with no reservations. Heath is now undoubtedly his brother.

Catching his mother's eye, they both smile as Jarrod steps off to the side. "Of course, Brother Nick, I'll just stay back to help with Jim."

Watching the scene unfold between the brothers, Dr. Merar places his hand on Gene's shoulder whose eyes are now watching his siblings disappear under the archway of the door. Giving the shoulder a gentle pat he waits for the young man's gaze to turn toward him before he continues, "Gene, you go ahead and follow your brothers inside and take your mother and Audra with you. You all can use the washroom to clean up some and don't think for a second that I don't see those bruises. As soon as I am done with Heath and this man, I plan to check you all over. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," he responds and slowly makes his way down as the toll of all that has occurred is finally having its say. His movements feel leaden as exhaustion suddenly engulfs him and every movement is coupled with pain from the newly formed bruises on his chest and face. With all that has happened, he almost forgot about the beating he took at the hands of Clay. Wrapping his arm around his sister's waist, he holds out his other hand to his mother and the three of them make their way through the opened door.

"Now," the doctor begins turning back to Jim, "What happened here?" he asks already probing the gash in the man's head.

"Well, sir," Alpha speaks up, his worry for both his uncle and his friend rolling off of him in waves. "As far as we can tell the bullet ricocheted off his badge and grazed his head. He's been unconscious for the last few hours and just started waking up while we were heading here."

"Alright, son," Dr. Merar says as he reaches around for his bag pulling out his stethoscope once again in order to check the man's vitals. "Any vomiting or blood coming out of his ears or nose?"

"No, sir."

"Good, good, and what's his name son?" the doctor asks realizing he has never been introduced to the lawman.

"Name's Jim," comes the whisper from the groggy man, his eyes only opened to slits. "Stop… talking like… not here."

"Uncle Jim!" Alpha yells, his eyes unashamedly filling with tears. "I'm so glad you're awake. I was so worried."

"I'm fine," the older man groans and rolls toward his left side as he takes in a few deep breaths trying to quell his rising nausea.

"You'll **be** fine," Dr. Merar quips, "but right now I'd gander that you have one hell of a headache, dizziness, and nausea. I think it best we move you inside so that I can properly clean out your wound, stitch it up, and then let you get some proper rest."

Placing his instruments back in his bag, the doctor motions to Jarrod to come help move the larger man, knowing it will take all of them to accomplish the task. Working in sync, the three men guide Jim to the edge of the wagon and then per his insistence steady the swaying patient as he slowly takes small steps forward and through the front door of the now filled office.


	53. Chapter 53

The warm water caresses her skin as she lays her head back against the edge of the bear claw tub nestled in the small bathroom inside Howard's house and office. Allowing the water to crest over her shoulders, Victoria closes her eyes and smiles as she vividly remembers the animated discussion between her husband and Howard as they argued over whether or not the country doctor should have indoor plumbing given the nature of his profession. Howard had experienced some of the downfalls in the early days of running water, contamination, backed up pipes, and people being forced from their homes because of the smell, and he simply did not believe Tom when he talked about the advancements in plumbing he had witnessed in New York. The debate raged on until Tom showed up with a brand new tub, just like the one he was putting in their house, and the doctor begrudgingly agreed to allow Tom and his men to build an additional room in the house to hold the monstrosity (as he called it). As Stockton continued to grow and his clients became more numerous, the old country doctor began to appreciate its merits even if he would never admit that to Tom.

Letting out a small sigh, she runs her arms across the top of the water and slowly pulls herself away from the lure of its warmth before gradually forcing herself to rise. She is so tired and would like nothing more than to head back to the house, curl up onto her bed, and sleep for the next few days. But, she knows there will be no going home tonight or even the next day for they have all silently agreed that they will not return to the ranch without the whole family and that now includes Heath. _Oh Heath, please be alright. We have so much to discuss, to learn about each other_ , she thinks as she reaches over to grab the clean towel Ida had brought in only a few moments ago. Wrapping herself in its comfort, she steps out of the tub before reaching back to release the drain.

Howard and Ida had been tending to both Jim and Heath for over an hour before the doctor's wife and assistant stepped out of the examination room to give them an update. Ida had been with Howard for over twenty years and it was well known in Stockton that she is just as qualified as her husband when it comes to medicine, so when she walked into the waiting room the despondent, exhausted group all turned to listen. Nick even jumped up from the seat he had been sitting in and walked over to her, anxious for news. After asking Nick to sit back down, she gracefully let them know that she was able to clean and suture Jim's wound and that he was now resting comfortably. With time and rest, she expected him to make a full recovery.

There were audible sighs of relief accompanied by hugs and smiles throughout the room at this little bit of good news. Alpha, whose worry had been weighing down on him like an anvil atop his shoulders, let out a small sob before leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair, the release of his tension palpable. It was then the entire group turned back to her for news of Heath. Delicately, with the restraint of a seasoned medical professional, she told them that Howard was still with him and would be out as soon as he could to let them know how the boy was doing. In the meantime, she strongly suggested that they take advantage of this time to get cleaned up.

Reaching over she picks up the borrowed dress, as her own is in need of a desperate cleaning, and slowly slipped the garment over her petite form. It feels good to be clean, to rid herself of the musty smell of that decaying farmhouse and its occupants. Slowly buttoning up the front of the dress, a knock on the door draws her attention and she quickly steps over to open it as she hears Audra's voice on the other side. In the doorway, Audra and Ida stand side by side holding liniment and bandages in their hands waiting to be let into the room. Victoria smiles up at them and motions for them to enter, though her eyes quickly fall to the bandages on the wrists of her only daughter. Trying to force back the tears filling her eyes she takes a moment to stare out into the empty hall before turning back toward the two other women.

Audra was the first to take advantage of the amenities as she still had remnants of her last encounter with Martha in her hair and on her gown. Knowing the impact of washing this away, Victoria accompanied her daughter into the washroom and helped her wash her hair and back as her daughter's sobs were only slightly drowned out by the sound of running water. By the time they were done, Audra's blue eyes were red and swollen but she sat a little straighter and held her head high, determined, as she told her mother, not to allow these events to take control of her. At that moment, Victoria could not have been prouder of the person her daughter has become.

"Alright, Victoria," Ida addresses her as she sets down the liniment beside the sink and then guides her longtime friend over to a chair in the corner of the room. "Let's take a look at your wrist and this bruise on your cheek and then we can let Gene get in here and get cleaned up."

Reaching back around she grabs the liniment and begins applying it to the rope burns on Victoria's wrist. Standing beside her, Audra watches as her mother winces from the burn of the ointment on the raw skin and waits for Ida to request a bandage.

"Nick and Jarrod already washed up in the basin in one of the recovery rooms," Ida continues trying to distract her friend from what she is doing. "They both had saddlebags and a change of clothes and I was able to find something to fit Gene until you can all get something else to put on."

Looking up at Audra, she catches the girl's eye and immediately Audra hands her a bandage. Gently, she sets about wrapping the injured wrist as Audra picks up the conversation while Ida sets the one hand down and lifts up the next one.

"Jarrod sent Alpha over to Fred's office to have one of the deputies bring a wagon to where Fred and Frank are waiting," Audra slightly rambles, "He also asked him to see that they send someone out to the ranch to get some of the men." She hands another bandage to Ida, who wraps it around Victoria's other wrist. "He looked a little frazzled with Jarrod barking orders at him. It was kind of cute."

"Cute?" Victoria looks up at her daughter who blushes and looks down at her feet before her mother only smiles and changes the subject. "And since when does Jarrod bark? That sounds more like Nick."

"Well, maybe not barking, just listing off his requests rather quickly." Audra smiles. "I'm honestly not sure if Alpha will remember all of them."

Ida, who has finished wrapping the other wrist and is now examining the bruise on the matriarch's cheek to make sure the bone is intact, smiles up at the pair, happy to hear some light-hearted banter between them.

"All of them? What else did Jarrod ask of him?"

"Well,..." Audra begins but is interrupted by a knock on the door and the sound of Jarrod's voice as he enters.

"I asked him to send a wire and to pick us up some food from Cattlemen's. Not a lot of requests but I have to agree with Audra, he did look a bit overwhelmed." He smiles at them both as he takes in their appearance, the wrapped wrists hiding the burns the bindings caused, and the dark bruise across his mother's cheek. He knows they were lucky and he can't help but feel he should have been able to stop this, to protect them.

"If you're finished in here, Howard would like to speak with us."

"Yes, of course." Victoria rises and meets her friend's eyes as the two quickly embrace allowing Ida to lend her strength. "Thank you," Victoria whispers in her ear before they break apart. Taking Audra by the hand, the group makes their way back into the waiting room.

* * *

Walking into the waiting room, the three Barkleys retake their seats while Ida slips past them and walks back into the examination room. Everyone but Gene is clean and looking more refreshed, while he seems to be asleep sitting upright with his head back against the wall. Sitting beside him, Victoria reaches over and grabs the hand of her brave son, startling him slightly. Waiting, she watches as he begins to stir. His head begins to sway back and forth and his eyelids flicker before she squeezes his hand gently, knowing if the doctor comes out he will want to hear what he has to say about Heath.

Finally breaking through the fog, she sees his hazel eyes blink open and his other hand comes up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking over at her, he smiles and looks up toward the ceiling as he lets out a quiet groan. The reawakened aches from the bruises stretching across his chest immediately demand his attention and he can't stop the small moan that escapes his lips. He has never been a fighter, not like Nick or even Jarrod. He has always tried to resolve problems with words and not fists and can count on one hand the number of times he has been injured. Sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees, he places his head in his hands and takes in a few deep breaths before making the gallant effort to rise from the chair.

"Guess it's my turn to get clean," he sheepishly says to his mother, who smiles at him with a look of wonder causing him to blush. "What?"

"Nothing, darling," Victoria again squeezes the hand she holds in her own, keeping him close. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Of how you handled yourself and tried to protect your brother from the Simmons. I don't think we would have all made it out of there if it wasn't for your quick thinking. I'm so proud of you, Gene."

"As are we, Brother Gene," Jarrod says as he walks over and offers his hand to the young man before him.

"Yeah, Gene," Nick chimes in, "I'd pull you in for a brotherly hug but your just a mite too dirty little brother." He gives him one of his contagious Nick smiles and Gene can't help but laugh. The moment is cut short as the door to the examination room opens and Dr. Merar steps into the waiting room.

With all eyes staring directly at him, Dr. Merar decides to just jump in before he can be bombarded with questions, "I think it best if you all sit down before I begin."

"He's gonna be alright, isn't he, doc?" Nick cuts in, taking a step towards him.

Grabbing his brother by the arm, Jarrod coaxes him over to his seat, "Come on Nick, let Howard continue?"

"Thank you, Jarrod," Dr. Merar sighs. He takes out his handkerchief and rubs it across his forehead as he looks out over the anxious faces in the room. He wishes he had more definitive news to share with them.

"Gene did a very good job summarizing Heath's injuries to me," Howard starts and then walks over to sit down in a chair next to Jarrod. "He was correct that he sustained three broken ribs through the series of beatings he endured. Those will just have to heal over time and with the amount of smoke he inhaled it will be important for us to watch and make sure he is taking deep breaths. The last thing the boy needs is to develop pneumonia."

"His right shoulder is severely bruised." he continues, looking over at Gene. "It's a good thing you were able to relocate it, Gene, otherwise he might have suffered permanent damage and loss the use of his arm or worse. As it is, the shoulder will probably take a few weeks to heal."

"The lacerations on his back, eight in total," he sees them all cringe, "were deep but surprisingly clean given where you explained he was held. I found no sign of infection. I gave them a thorough cleaning and bandaged them. Too much time has elapsed so I am not able to stitch which will make the scarring more pronounced."

"As if that boy needs any more scars on his back," Nick mumbles angrily ending with a low growl.

Ignoring Nick, Dr. Merar again turns to Gene, "Gene, you mentioned you cleaned them, what with?"

"Vinegar," Gene whispers, slamming his eyes shut as he tries to wipe the flashes of memory from his eyes.

"Vinegar," the doctor repeats. "Interesting, I would never have thought of that."

Watching as the young man pales in front of him, he reaches over and pats the boy on the knee.

"Gene, in this profession there are times when we have to cause our patients pain in order to help them. I'm sure that pouring vinegar on your brother's wounds was quite painful for Heath and probably hard for you to watch," he pauses and waits until he sees Gene nod, acknowledging his words. "But it's more than likely what saved his life. You should be proud of what you did."

Releasing the boy's knee, Howard sits back in the chair and reaches up to rub his eyes. He notices Jarrod eyeing Gene suspiciously but ignores it knowing that Gene will need to tell his family soon about his choices but now is not the time to get into it.

"Lastly," he continues, "it looks like the bullet wound on his lower right side has been re-injured more than once and this has allowed for infection to set in. I debrided, packed and placed a drain inside and I'm hoping that this will help to bring the infection under control but we will need to keep a close eye on him for the next few days."

"So, he's going to be okay?" Audra asks, her voice hopeful.

"I'm sorry Audra, but it's too soon to say. If we can get ahead of this infection and keep his fever under control then I think he has a good chance at recovery but for now we are going to have to take it one day at a time." He looks around at the distraught looks on the faces of the family before his eyes seek out and settle on Victoria.

"We'll do whatever we can to help, Howard," Victoria responds as if answering his call. She reaches over and grabs his hand.

"I'd expect nothing less from this family, Victoria," Howard replies with a smile.


	54. Chapter 54

The creak of the old wooden door screams out as it fights against the strain on its rusted hinges and clings to the metal attaching it to its frame. The high pitched deafening sound causes Jarrod to cringe as he slowly moves to enter the quiet examination room, hoping that the banshee level howl did not disturb the room's two sleeping occupants. Glancing around, he smiles and sighs in relief as the only eyes looking back at him are those of his mother. She is sitting next to Heath changing out the cooling rags meant to help bring down his fever. Leaving the door partially propped open, he quietly walks over and places a comforting hand on the top of her weary shoulder.

"How is he?" he asks, leaning down to kiss her cheek. He watches as she wrings out the cloth she has just placed in the bowl of water on the table next to the bed and then folds the cloth in thirds before lying it over the mumbling boy's forehead. The cool cloth has an instant effect as Heath lets out a small sigh and for just a moment his restless movements still.

Sliding into an unoccupied chair next to his mother, Jarrod takes in the sight of this little brother who is once again moving restlessly underneath the thin sheet covering him. An occasional word slips through the quiet moans as the boy tries to escape the heat and pain consuming his frail form. He is positioned on his left side with his right arm secured to his chest in an effort to keep him from injuring the shoulder further. There are bandages covering his back and waist, hiding the horrid lacerations and the infected wound from their view. The boy is pale, so pale that Jarrod takes note of how the white towels and bandages seem darker than his skin. That is, except of course, where the molten colors of the multitude of bruises show across his face and chest.

"He's fighting, Jarrod," she says as she takes the cloth lying across the back of the blonde's neck and repeats the process of cooling the now warm towel and replacing it on the fevered boy. "Ida went to get some broth and more tea. We are trying to get some type of nutrients in him to help him fight off the infection."

"He looks so young," Jarrod chokes out past the lump in his throat, his own guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. He can't seem to reconcile the anger he felt toward the young man for bringing this upon his family when in fact they had brought the enemy to him. The scene in the parlor with him angrily questioning the recovering boy has been playing over and over in his mind. _Why was it so easy for me to blame you,_ he wonders as he places a hand on the boy's leg. _Here I am, a man who prides himself with judging a person by his actions and not where he came from and I instantly believe that somehow all of this was your fault. I bet you have dealt with that a lot in your short life. I'm your brother, I'm supposed to stand by you no matter what and the first test of that I failed._

"He is young," Victoria responds breaking through his contemplations, he watches as she runs her fingers through sweaty blonde hair. "Alpha let it slip to Audra that he just turned twenty in May, only a few weeks before his mother passed away," She looks over at her oldest child and can see the wheels of regret moving behind his blue eyes. "This is not your fault, Jarrod," she says as she grabs hold of his hand.

"I know," he reassures her, "but I haven't been a very good big brother to Heath and I want the chance to make it up to him."

"And I believe you will get that chance. We all will. He's a survivor, Jarrod. We'll get him through this, as a family." Releasing his hand she reaches up to cup his cheek and gives him a reassuring smile before she turns her attention back to Heath. She takes the cloth off his forehead and begins to repeat dipping it in the cool water before replacing it on the warm face.

"Thank you, Mother," he says sincerely as a loud screech turns their attention toward the door where Ida is entering carrying a large tray of tea and broth. Without hesitation, Jarrod stands up, quickly offers to take the tray, and then sets it down on the side table.

"As long as we are going to be spending some time here, why don't I have Nick take a look at that door for you." He smiles over at Ida. "I can't imagine that those hinges are going to last much longer."

"Oh yes, Jarrod, that would be wonderful. Thank you. My Howard is incredibly gifted with a scalpel but absolutely dreadful with a hammer," she laughs, as she walks over to check on the still sleeping Jim.

"Speaking of Nick, the men he sent for from the ranch have arrived and I was wondering if you knew where I might find him. I know he woke up from our..." He can't help but smile as he remembers Howard ordering them all to rest before he would allow them in to see Heath. Somehow the doctor was able to quiet their rebuttals and force them into a couple of the bedrooms and then stood in the doorway until they had all laid down. "... prescribed rest around the same time that I did."

"Check out back, Jarrod," Ida answers as she walks back over to the tray and pours two cups of tea and ladles out two cups of broth. "I saw him on the back porch while I was in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Ida," he says as he turns to leave but then stops and turns back toward his mother. "Mother, before I head over to the hotel to book our rooms, I plan to head over to the funeral parlor and make arrangements for Lee," he says solemnly, "Audra mentioned wanting to go with us to pay her respects."

"Of course," she nods knowing that he is letting her know so that she can be there. "Thank you, Jarrod."

* * *

The cool breeze is a nice reprieve from the stagnant heat that has plagued the valley for most of the summer. Standing alone, staring out over the waning sun, Nick takes no pleasure in the small gift but instead continues to allow the anger he feels within himself, at himself, to fester. He had known when he walked out onto the back porch after his forced rest, that with this way of thinking he is choosing to allow the self-reproach he feels to settle deep inside and metastasize throughout him. But, he figures it's the least he can do. Heath is fighting for his life and it is all his fault. It's not the lacerations or the beatings that could take him from them. No, it's the infection buried inside the bullet wound that he put there. This little brother who just appeared out of nowhere and angrily demanded his share, who deserves more than they could give him, again might die because his bull-headed big brother decided to act without thought. And that truth is now eating him alive.

"Big'ol Nick Barkley," he laughs at himself, "a man of action. Yeah, I took action, alright. Couldn't even see the danger right in front of us but can shoot my own brother without cause."

He grips the rail of the porch harder and lets out a primitive growl. He would like nothing more than to rip this top beam from its anchor and unleash his fury on the innocent wood. Or, even better, make his way over to Harry's and see what kind of fools have wandered in there tonight. There has to be at least one or two or even three that would be open to the type of release he needs. Pushing off hard from the board he is leaning on, he almost allows himself to dismiss reason and head out into town even though they still face an unknown threat. That is until he sees Audra staring out through the bedroom window. After everything they endured this week, he can't do that to his family.

Taking in a deep breath, he turns to head back inside only to find himself face to face with his older brother.

"Nick," Jarrod says as he takes a moment to size up his younger brother. He knows this man almost as well as he knows himself and from the tapping of the foot, the tension in his shoulders and the hungry look in his eyes, there is no doubt to him that Nick was about to do something he shouldn't. "I hope you aren't planning on doing anything stupid."

"I was," Nick confesses, slightly annoyed at the accurate prediction, "but I, uh…" he glances back toward the now empty window, "...thought better of it."

"Good," Jarrod answers as he continues to stare. He can see the warring emotions taking place behind the hazel eyes. Placing his hands on the other man's shoulders he forces him to look directly at him as he delivers the same message he had just been told, "As a very wise woman recently told me, none of this is your fault, Nick."

"You're wrong," he scoffs and pulls out of his brother's grip and steps away from him. "You heard the doc, it's the infection in the bullet wound that could kill him if it gets any worse. That's MY fault!"

"The shooting was an accident, Nick. You know that and it was the second and third injury to the same area that caused the infection. You didn't cause that."

"OH REALLY," Nick yells, and turns his back to Jarrod before hanging his head and in a defeated voice continues. "If he didn't have the first injury it couldn't have been injured two more times, so that makes it my fault."

Hearing the hurt in Nick's voice and seeing the vulnerability displayed in his stance, Jarrod walks over and once again places a hand on his shoulder. Once this was all over there would be time for healing, for setting things right, he'd make sure of that. But for now, he needed to get Nick past this so that they can figure out who was behind the hiring of Buddy.

"Nick." He gives the shoulder a squeeze and then moves up beside the other man. Sitting down on the rail he looks up at his brother and again calls his name until finally, the other man looks over at him. "Nick, Heath forgave you, don't belittle that. As that same insightful woman said, we are going to get him through this as a family. Besides, you didn't send Buddy after us. Whoever did, they are to blame for all of this. Not you."

The two stand there in companionable silence as Nick weighs his brother's words. He isn't quite sure he believes them, but for now they will have to do. He needs to focus on the main threat, the person he plans to make pay for all the pain they have caused this family.

"This wise woman wouldn't happen to be petite with silver hair and grey eyes, would she?" Nick jokes and smiles up at his brother. "Answers to the name mother?"

"One and the same, Brother Nick," he jokes as he stands up and heads toward the door. "Come on little brother, the men just got here."

* * *

The day started off so promising, a beautiful sunrise, an uneventful train ride into Stockton, and the promise of news that he hoped would finally release the noose that has been tightening around his neck for the last nine months. Of course, that hoped died as he strolled whistling down the boardwalk around mid-afternoon and began to hear the whispers throughout the streets retelling the tale of the miraculous survival of the most prominent family in town. It appeared that his one chance to get out from underneath the delicate situation he has found himself in would be stripped away by an overzealous young gunslinger he had paid a hefty sum to with the promise he would be able to eradicate the Barkleys.

Now as the tall well-dressed man hurries purposely down the boardwalk hoping to reach the telegraph office before it closes, he tries to drown out the gossip and focus on the task at hand. Yes, Buddy Tyrone failed to carry out the job he was paid for and he inadvertently alerted the Barkleys to the fact that someone is after them. Still, they don't have a clue who that person is and while it might have been a long time since he drew his weapon, he does remember how to shoot. He just needs to strike before they have the chance to get wise to him and in order to do that he is going to need two of his very best men.

 _Well, Auggie, looks like we're going to have to get our hands dirty after all._ He smiles.


	55. Chapter 55

Staring up at the dulling colors that once graced the daisy-strewn wallpaper of the funeral parlor, Victoria takes in a deep breath and gently wraps her arm tighter around Audra as the pair wait for Nick and Jarrod to return from speaking with Mr. Andrews, the director. She can feel the girl trembling underneath her hand and wishes there was some way to make this easier for her, but Audra insisted on being present when Lee's family arrives so that she could thank them and tell them how he died. After all, it was her life that he saved and she believes it is one thing she can do to honor his sacrifice. At least that is what she told them on their walk over here.

Victoria remembers the first time she was placed in this position, how a piece of her heart closed itself off and took the burden of guilt associated with being saved by the heroic action of another. This will be the first time Audra will have to face the family of a man who died to protect a Barkley, to protect her, and unfortunately, Victoria knows it will probably not be the last time she finds herself in this position. Being a prominent family possesses certain risks and the men who sign on with their family know this; it is just part of working for one of the richest families in all of California. The men also know that should they meet their demise in service, their families will be well taken care of, not that it makes what they are about to do any easier.

Looking up at her daughter's delicate features, she can see the pool of tears threatening to fall down the porcelain cheeks as Audra stares, unmoving toward the front door. Reaching over she takes her free hand and places it atop of the two that are fervently twisting a handkerchief between them. Giving them a firm squeeze she glances over to meet Audra's eyes and smiles at the strength she sees beneath the tears looking back at her. This is no longer a young girl sitting beside her but a strong capable woman, a daughter any parent would be proud of.

"I love you, Audra," Victoria says through her own tears now clouding her eyes, "and I am so proud of how you handled yourself throughout this whole ordeal. What you are about to do is probably one of the hardest things you will do in your life, but you are not alone. I am here and Nick and Jarrod will be standing right beside you."

"Thank you, Mother," Audra whispers, turning her gaze back toward her hands as the sound of the front door opening fills the room, followed soon after by a flurry of footsteps.

Looking back up, their eyes fall on the tearful faces of Lee's wife, son, and brother. The sight of them unlocks Audra's own sorrow and the tears that she had been successfully keeping contained begin to fall steadily down her cheeks. Quickly wiping them away, knowing her own grief will have to wait, Audra stands to meet them. Gently, she takes the shaking hands of the young widow and guides her to a chair where she beings to tell the story of how Lee was lost to them. Looking on with pride, Victoria watches as Audra keeps her own emotions in check as she speaks of the bravery and honor of the man who had been their friend.

Standing back, not wanting to disturb the two women, Victoria takes comfort in the arm she feels lay across her shoulders as the familiar feeling of Jarrod surrounds her and her eldest son lends her his strength.

"Everything has been taken care of," he leans over and whispers in her ear as he too watches his grown sister comfort the grieving widow.

"Thank you, Jarrod," she says as she watches Nick come up to stand beside Audra. As Lee's employer, he would speak on behalf of the family and then they would leave them to grieve in peace.

"Once we have had a chance to offer our condolences, Nick and I will escort you back to Howard's before we head over to go speak with Fred and Frank, who should be back by now. After that, we will reserve rooms at the hotel."

She nods but keeps her eyes on Nick, waiting for him to finish talking. She watches as he shakes Lee's brother's hand and then gently wrap his widow in a comforting embrace. Taking in the cues, Victoria slowly stands and moves out from under Jarrod's comfort as the two cross the length of the room joining the huddled mournful group.

* * *

"How's he doing doc?" Frank asks as he hovers over the shoulder of the doctor while he tries to record the man's vitals.

Letting out a small grumble, Dr. Merar looks up, annoyed, and politely clears his throat while motioning with his eyes for the man to take a step back.

"Sorry, doc." Frank quickly moves, slightly embarrassed by the worry clearly displayed on his face.

He had arrived back into town with Fred only a short while ago and immediately headed over to check on Heath and Jim. He wasted no time heading for the examination room only to be curtailed by a small older woman who forced the dusty lawman into the washroom and demanded he not bring the dirt trail in with him. Once he had successfully washed the dirt away, he walked into the examination room where his eyes quickly fell on that of his pale friend and feverish ex-deputy.

"Are they going to be ok?" he asks, keeping his distance.

Ignoring him, Dr. Merar places his fingers on the man's wrist while looking at his watch. After a few seconds, he releases the arm and then places the stethoscope buds into his ears as he listens to Jim's breathing. Satisfied, he removes the instrument and turns back toward the anxious man.

"He'll be fine," Dr. Merar smiles at the relief he sees before him, "He's already been awake a few times and seems to know who and where he is. All good signs. I suspect he will have a headache for the next few days and may experience some dizziness and nausea. He'll need to rest for the next week and keep his movements to a minimum."

"And Heath?" Frank quickly asks looking over toward where the blonde is lying, surrounded by Gene and Ida who have been diligently wiping him down with cool cloths.

"I'm afraid, the boy's got a bit of a fight on his hands," Dr. Merar frowns. He walks over and places a hand on Heath's forehead. Even though the cool cloth had only being removed seconds ago, the doctor can still feel the heat his body is producing. Keeping the boy's fever down and getting fluids into him is the only thing they can do to help him fight off the infection ravaging his body.

Seeing the worry in the doctor's eye, something he is sure only someone trained to notice the smallest details would catch, he quickly tries to reassure them all.

"He's a fighter, doc. You'll see," Frank avows.

Images of the numerous scars covering the boy's body flash through the doctor's mind and he can't help but solemnly agree. "Yes, I believe he is." Is the doctor's only reply.

"Well, since you're here," he quickly changes the subject, "you can help me move your big friend here into one of the bedrooms. I think he will be a little more comfortable recovering in a nice soft bed."

Frank smiles at the purposely light tone of the Doctor's voice and matches him in inflection, "Happy to help, I'd just like to let the boy," he motions toward Heath, "know I'm here. If that's alright?"

"Of course, he needs to know those who care about him are near. Ida and I will go prepare the room," he says as he places a hand on his wife's arm who reluctantly relinquishes her seat to the lawmen.

"Here, Mr…?" Ida hands him the cloth she had just removed from Heath's neck.

"Sawyer, ma'am, and my apologies I guess we haven't been properly introduced," he answers as he takes the cloth from her hands. With their eyes still upon him, he takes the cloth and dips it in the cool water before wringing it out and ever so gently places back on Heath's neck.

"Hey, Heath boy," Frank says as he dabs the cool cloth on the mumbling boy. His voice is soothing and calm, a clear conflict from his gruff demeanor. The love he feels for this boy is clear. "You keep fighting son. You hear?"

At the sound of his voice, Heath's eyes move underneath the closed eyelids and his head turns further in his direction. Encouraged, Frank continues talking, hoping Heath will open his eyes.

"You gotta listen to ol'Frank, boy. There's a whole lot of people who want you here." He glances up and meets Gene's eyes. The young Barkley smiles and nods for him to continue seeing the movements his little brother is making. They all catch a glimpse of Heath's lips moving as he tries to speak. Frank continues trying to help him fully awake, "Yes, son, a whole lot of people who want you to wake up."

"Frank…" The weak raspy voice is barely above a whisper but the impact to the group surrounding the young man is instant. Quickly, Frank reaches up and ever so gently cups the boy's cheek, his own voice faltering.

"Yeah, I'm right here, Heath. I'm right here beside you and so is your family. So you just keep on fighting. Ok?"

He watches as the boy works to open his eyes to mere slits and then squints as he tries to focus. The left eye, still swollen from the pounding the boy took only a couple of days ago, seems to remain clouded over while the right eye stares directly at Frank.

"I'm sorry, Frank." Lost in a burning haze, Heath closes his eyes and turns away, unable to stop from moaning as pain ripples through him.

"Hey boy, stay with me," Franks says as he gently runs his fingers through the boy's hair, trying to soothe him. "Sorry, what for? You saved your family, Heath. You got nothing to be sorry for."

"Jim," Heath mouths noiselessly, his voice rising to barely a whisper as he struggles back to the surface. "My fault, sorry."

"Hey now, first of all, none of this is your fault and second..." Frank takes the cloth off Heath's forehead and dips it in the cool water before replacing it. "Jim is fine. You hear me, Heath. He's going to be just fine."

"No," he blurts out a little stronger. "Dead, I saw." His tears sneak pass his eyelashes as he remembers seeing the man he cared so much for, unmoving on the hard earth.

Seeing how much this was taking out of the blonde, Frank takes action and quickly moves to sit beside the young man. Ever so slowly and only after a nod of approval from the doctor, Frank gently lifts Heath and moves in behind him allowing the weaken boy to lean against him. Giving him a moment to recover from the pain he knows the movement inflicted, he directs Heath's attention to the man lying on the other table. "No, Heath, Jim's fine. I promise. Look, son, he's sleeping the day away right over there. It'll take more than a lousy old bullet to bring him down."

A rising well of emotion boils up in the feverish boy as his eyes gaze upon his fallen friend. He watches as the chest of the larger man rises and falls, and then, as if Jim knew Heath needed reassurance, he mumbles and turns in his sleep.

Too tired and too happy, to say any words, Heath looks over to Gene, the doctor, and his wife before allowing his eyes to look up over his shoulder at Frank, who can see the relief clear in his expressive eyes.

"The bullet grazed his head and he is going to have one hell of a headache… uh, sorry ma'am," Frank pauses and looks at Ida, who only smiles before he very slowly moves out from behind Heath and carefully lays the boy back down. Giving him another moment to work through the unintended pain, he once again grabs hold of one of the fallen cloths and dips it in the cool water before reapplying it to the blonde's head. "Now, when Jim wakes up he is going to want to see you feeling better so I want you to listen to the good doc, his wife, and your brother and do what they tell you. Alright, son?"

Without opening his eyes, he flashes Frank a small crooked smile that warms the older lawmen's heart. "Yes, sir," is all he says before falls back into a fitful, fevered sleep.

"See," Frank chokes out as he replaces the warm cloth, unembarrassed by the rare show of emotion. "Kid's as tough as nails."

* * *

The man behind the counter of the general store could not have been more helpful at supplying just the right amount of goods for the stranger to complete his mission. _Well, not really a mission of sorts, more like a desperate attempt to save what's mine._ A part of him was sorry that it had come to this and he took full responsibility in the fact it was his poor business choices that led him here. But he would be damned if he was going to lose his empire without a fight and if that meant some unsuspecting innocents lost their lives along the way, he had already made peace with that.

Looking out at the supplies he purchased lying across the dresser of his hotel room, he counts three boxes of cartridges, a cleaning kit for his revolver, and a pack of dynamite. He's not really sure how he is going to be able to carry out his attack, but he has faith in his ability to be creative and knows that in the past when he has been backed up against a wall he has always found a way through.

Walking over, he plops down on the bed to stare at the items before him, hoping for inspiration, when a knock on the door startles him. Not expecting his men to get there until tomorrow, he slowly reaches for his revolver and double checks to make sure it is loaded before slowly making his way over to the door.

"I didn't order any room service," he calls out. Cocking back his gun, he steps to the side of the doorframe.

"And we ain't serving any," the voice on the other side barks. "Now open up this door, August, and I'd hurry if I were you!"

 _Damn, Damn, Damn! What the hell are they doing here?_ The voice inside his head screams as he starts pacing in the room. _I have until Friday to get this done. It's only Tuesday! Why have they come?_

AUGGIE, now I'm gonna count to three and then I ain't going to be as patient as I'm being now," the voice yells. "ONE..."

Auggie hears the click of a gun's hammer.

"TWO…"

"Okay, Okay, Hold on, I'm coming," Auggie yells back as he shoves his revolver back in its holster and throws open the door.

"Corell, Mason," he says, pleasantly. "How nice to see you, won't you please come in."


	56. Chapter 56

"Might I offer you a drink?" the ever-gracious host turns to walk back into the room hiding the snarl on his face. _What the hell are they doing here?_ He thinks as he heads over to the small table and opens up the recently purchased bottle of scotch sitting on top of it. Taking the three glasses he had brought up for when his own men arrived, he pours a generous amount in each glass and then turns back towards his unexpected visitors.

He watches as the two thugs slowly stroll further into his room and then plop down in the chairs by the small table near the window. The two of them quickly take note of the ammunition and dynamite lying on the bed, something he does not miss but hopes that he will not have to explain to them. Setting the glasses of scotch down in front of them, he wishes he could wipe that smug look off their faces, but he reminds himself that their boss currently holds the title to almost his full 900 acres. _Best not to get on their bad side,_ he decides.

"Now to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he smiles through gritted teeth. "My payment to Mr. Cunningham is not due until Friday."

"Ain't here on pleasure," Corell snickers and then downs the scotch in one gulp. Pushing the empty glass back towards his host, the spindly frail-looking man continues, "We're here to stop you from doing something stupid."

Corell looks over to Mason and the two laugh as Auggie refills their glasses. To look at the two of them you wouldn't think either one is intimidating. Corell is tall and lengthy and looks like a gentle breeze will knock him to the ground but the man is fast. Faster than anyone Auggie has ever seen and he has a reputation for being a short fuse with his gun. Mason's sturdy frame can't make up for his empty mind, the man is so dumb he could throw himself on the ground and miss, and that is what makes him dangerous. If Corell orders him to do something he does it without question.

"Yep," Corell keeps on, "a little birdy told Mr. Cunningham about what you've been trying to do here and he ain't none too happy about it." He leans back in his chair forcing the front legs off the ground, his smile stretches across his scrawny face. "So he sent us over here with a little message for you."

 _Oh, how I want to rip that grin off his pompous face,_ he thinks as he walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. _If only I was a little younger and not so indebted to their boss._

"Well, I don't see how my plans have anything to do with Mr. Cunningham as long as I get him his money by Friday."

"Mr. Cunningham," Corell barks, allowing his chair to land hard on all four legs, "don't want the kind of trouble the Barkleys bring if you happen to fail, **AGAIN** ," he adds with emphasis. "The last thing he needs is those righteous do-gooders breathing down his neck because of his ties to you."

With that said he jumps up and kicks the chair back against the wall cracking its frame. Mason copies the behavior though the empty look in his eyes and his constant glances back at Corell show he is waiting to be given an order, any order. As Corell approaches where Auggie is sitting on the bed, he leans down so their noses are practically touching. He stares for a moment at the older man and can see determination and pride looking back at him. _So much sweeter_ , he thinks as he lets out a warm breath bombarding Auggie with the stench of tooth decay before he issues his warning.

"Mr. Cunningham is asking you politely to cut your losses and go on to live another day. If you don't and you fail, the Barkleys won't be the only ones you'll have to worry about."

"Cut my losses! Cut my losses!" Auggie screams but only gets out a couple of lines before Corell nods to Mason and the mindless man descends upon his prey.

Looking down at the crumpled heap on the floor, the scrawny man walks over and pours another shot of scotch before stepping over the fallen man. His work here is done, his message has been delivered.

Hearing the door to his room slam shut, Auggie slowly pulls himself off the floor and drags himself onto the bed where he carefully lays back against the pillows.

"Cut my losses," he scowls, "I have worked too long and too hard to build my empire only to have it yanked away because of a missed payment! I will not cut my losses. I will succeed and I will pay my debt. And once the Barkleys are taken care of, I'm coming for you, Joshua Cunningham!"

* * *

The small waiting room in the front part of Howard's office is a welcomed sight to the large group entering into the confines of its comfort. The calming tones of blue that adorn the walls and the bright lively flowers, that Ida makes sure to change weekly, in the vases on each of the end tables bring a small amount of joy to the weary group. They had stayed with Lee's family for the last couple of hours and the emotional drain on all of them shows in the slumped shoulders and, in the case of Audra and Victoria, their red-rimmed eyes.

With the armed escorts remaining outside, the four Barkleys stagger into the room. Jarrod, whose arm has been wrapped around his sister's waist, gently guides her onto one of the settees, while their mother quickly takes a seat beside her. Squatting down in front of her so that their eyes meet, Jarrod places his hand on her knee giving it a squeeze, he starts to try to comfort her.

"Audra…"

"Don't Jarrod," she interrupts, "I'm okay." She shifts under his gaze. "I'll be okay. I'm sad and I have a right to be, but I will honor Lee's sacrifice, just like I told his wife. I just still can't believe that Buddy was behind this. How could he do this to us? He was our friend, our family?"

Jarrod looks down and shakes his head before taking in a deep breath and running his free hand over his face. This is one question he can not answer. Even if they find out who hired Buddy that won't answer the question of why the boy who grew up beside them would be willing to do this. He's not even sure there is an answer.

"I'll tell you why," Nick blurts out and begins his signature pacing in front of them. "There was always something wrong with that boy," he continues, his voice almost a growl. "Father and I took him and Gene hunting one weekend right after his mom died. Gene was hesitant to hurt anything but Buddy, he liked it. Shot a doe right beside its fawn and then smiled as it choked on its own blood and took its last breath."

"Oh, that's awful!" Audra gasps and reaches down and grabs Jarrod's hand.

Nick just nods and then goes over to stand by the window and look out at the now setting sun before he continues, "Father said he was just curious and still grieving for his mother, but I knew that wasn't true. I knew there was something wrong up here," he points to his head. "He took pleasure in the killing and I guess he decided to make a living at it. No matter who was the target."

He turns back to his family and can see the looks of horror and grief on their faces. With a look of apology for his outburst, he walks back over and plops down on the opposite settee before reaching over and taking his mother's outstretched hand, allowing for the four to find peace and strength, in the comfort of each other's presence.

"'It's still hard to believe," she comforts, "and while I know he is to blame I still can't help but grieve for the boy I knew, the boy I loved."

"Me too, Mother," Audra says with fresh tears falling down her face.

The sounds of footsteps draw their attention towards the hall near the entrance of the examination room and they see Frank and Howard making their way into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," Frank steps forward and waits a moment for Jarrod and Nick to rise before shaking both of their hands. "Doc and I just moved Jim into one of the bedrooms and we heard you folks come in."

"How is Jim?" Victoria quickly asks.

"He is doing well," Howard answers, "he'll be down for a few days and he won't be working for a couple of weeks."

"And Heath?" Jarrod steps forward, "How is he?"

"He's holding his own, Jarrod. Frank was able to let him know that Jim was going to be alright and I think that added strength to his fight. Gene is with him now, but I am sure he could use a break. I don't think he is used to walking around covered in bruises," he smiles.

"Yes, of course," Victoria says as she rises and Audra quickly follows her lead, "We'll go relieve him so that he can join you out here. I am sure you both...," she looks at Jarrod and Nick, "...would like to speak further with Frank."

Jarrod just smiles and leans over to kiss his mother on the cheek before doing the same to his sister.

"Yes, Mother. In fact, I think we will head over to Fred's office to discuss the next steps before I go to the hotel and book our rooms."

"Also, Scotty and Willy will be right outside if you need them," Nick adds as he wraps his sister in a hug and gives his mother a kiss before watching them both disappear into the examination room with Howard.

A moment later Gene steps out of the squeaky door. Both brothers immediately take in the stiff movements and the exhaustion on his face. Moving over, Nick drapes his arm over his little brother's shoulders and gives him a small, gentle squeeze.

"It will feel better in a couple of days," he smiles at the boy and then reaches up and ruffles his hair causing Gene to laugh and think of happier times. "Now come on, we're going to head over to Fred's and you need to be there."

Gently dragging Gene with them, the brothers walk over to Jarrod and Frank just as they open the front door, only to find themselves face to face with a tall, very well-groomed man in a tailored three piece suite. As their eyes meet and the man bestows upon Jarrod a pencil-thin smile that tilts ever so slightly upward in the right edge of his lips, the elder Barkley has to control his instinctual revulsion to the man.

"He's unarmed Mr. Barkley," Scotty yells from behind them and both Jarrod and the stranger turn back to look at him. Scotty gulps as all eyes are on him, but continues, "Says he needed to see you, that it was important. That he has information that might help you figure out who's doing this."

"Thank you, Scotty." Jarrod eases the ranchhand's nerves before turning again to face the man. "You have information, Mr…?"

"Cunningham. Joshua Cunningham, and yes, I believe I do."


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's Note:** I just wanted to apologize for the extended time in between posts. Real life has been a little crazy for the last few weeks. Things are back to normal and I should be back to a regular posting schedule. Thank you again for reading!

* * *

The scraping sounds of chairs being dragged out of the backroom and haphazardly positioned around Fred's desk echo through the small office as the group of men make their way inside. Joey, one of Fred's newer deputies, sets the two chairs in front of the sheriff's desk, adding to the one already there, and then looks up to his boss for further instructions. Not seeing any reason for the young deputy to stay and listen in on the conversation, Fred sends him back to watch over the prisoners while they hear what this new player has to say.

As the group disperses, each finds a seat. The two lawmen make their way to opposite sides of the desk with Fred half-sitting half-standing on the right edge while Frank takes up the same position on the left. It has been their experience with hostile men, that it is best to not be inhibited in their need for action and this man, Joshua Cunningham, sure emits an air of hostility as he casually finds a seat on the other side of the room. Smiling to themselves, they both watch as Jarrod, just as casually, takes a seat off to the side so that he has a good view of Mr. Cunningham while he delivers his information. Gene, however, nonchalantly sits down beside his oldest brother and Nick, always a tight wad of energy ready to explode at any moment, leans against the wall, arms crossed, staring hard at the wretched man.

"So Mr. Cunningham," Jarrod begins, "You said you had news that might shed some light on what has been happening here?"

"Yes, Mr. Barkley," Mr. Cunningham replies. He looks around the room at the formidable group and smiles slightly at the thought of being pitted against them. _Oh, what fun I could have with all of you,_ he thinks as he forces himself to return to a more grim demeanor knowing that none of that was lost on the lawyer in front of him. _One day, Jarrod Barkley, we'll play our games but for now..._ "and please, call me Joshua."

"Alright, Joshua," Jarrod answers but purposely doesn't return the invitation. The last thing he wants is an air of familiarity with the man sitting across from him. The waves of depravity pouring off this man have heightened his moral instincts and the sooner they can be rid of this vile insect the better. "Please continue."

"Certainly," he starts, his voice even. "I'll get right to the point. You see I am afraid that your trouble here as of late is due to the desperate actions of one of my business associates. A man, who, by all accounts should have been able to hold onto his rather lucrative orchards up in Solano County but a run of bad luck has left him unable to fulfill his part of our agreement."

Jarrod's eye catches Nick shifting forward slightly and a little too loudly scoff before settling back with a snarl on his face.

"What kind of agreement?" Jarrod asks as he turns his eyes back toward Cunningham, who seems amused by Nick.

"Well, it's simple really," he continues, "You see, I have been fortunate in my time here on this earth to have made some very lucrative business dealings. This particular associate, after having a small taste of success, wanted to expand his simple operation. And, after looking over his initial earnings, I agreed to allow him a small parcel of land."

"How small?" Jarrod leads, wondering what he will be able to pull from this, a hostile witness.

"Seven Hundred and Fifty acres."

"SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY ACRES," Gene blurts out, sounding very much like Nick, who looks as if his line has been stolen. "That's a lot of land!"

"I agree," Mr. Cunningham nods at Gene and leans back a little more in his chair. "The terms were simple, he had three years to pay off the mortgage on the land and if unable to pay then the land and any improvements would once again become my property."

"And just when is this payment due?" Frank butts in. As much as he is enjoying watching the silent sparring match happening between the two men, they need to get down to why the man came here.

"It's due this Friday." He answers Frank but his eyes never leave Jarrod.

"SO WHAT'S THIS GOT TO DO WITH US?" Nick shouts. Coming off the wall, he takes an angry step toward their guest. Faster than most in the room would have thought possible, the businessman jumps from his seat and turns to face Nick head on.

"Well, Mr. Barkley," he answers, his quiet voice matching Nick for intensity. "It appears this man made a deal with a hired gun named Buddy Tyrone to seize your property."

"And how is it you came by this information," Nick growls. He already doesn't like this man and bringing up Buddy's name simply adds to the jumble of emotions burning within him.

"I hired the Pinkerton Agency," he sneers. "Much like you would do if you were concerned about someone you were in business with. Isn't that right, **Jarrod**?"

He uses the lawyer's first name as a slight, hoping to break through the counselor's righteous demeanor and is rewarded by a small twitch of the man's lips as he contains his reaction. The same, however, cannot be said of the volatile brother in front of him, who puffs up his chest as if his mere size would be found intimidating. Oh, how he is enjoying this little game of wits and his ability to these brothers riled up. He almost feels bad to bring their wrath down on his former friend.

"You know, if you felt unsure about a colleague or maybe a…," He throws out the next part to see what kind of reaction he will get. "... a **new brother**."

He just couldn't help himself and watching all three brothers and one of the lawmen jump up in defense of the new addition will keep him smiling for days. Yes, he is aware of all that has been happening to the Barkley family and how it has placed a stain on their father's good name.

"What does Heath have to do with this?" Gene yells out before his brothers can stop him. Aiming to take control of the situation, Jarrod guides his younger back into his seat, knowing the other man simply made that remark to get under their skin.

"Nothing, at least not that I am aware of." Mr. Cunningham smirks at the younger man and then takes a step toward the door. "The only other thing I can tell you is that the man you are looking for goes by the name Augustus Hatch, but his friends call him Auggie."

Taking a step toward the seemingly departing man, Jarrod reaches out his hand which is readily accepted.

"I want to thank you, Mr. Cunningham. You have done our family a great service by coming forward and shedding some light on our current situation," Jarrod pleasantly squeezes out the words through gritted teeth.

"My pleasure, Mr. Barkley. It was the only thing a good citizen like myself could do. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if something had happened to your family and I could have stopped it," he replies through a large smile, his voice honeyed.

"Good day, gentlemen," is the last thing he says before he takes his leave.

As soon as the door shuts, Nick turns toward the other men, hands on his hips, fire in his eyes. "Bad luck, how much do you want to bet he's the cause of the bad luck, this Auggie ran into!"

"Of that, I have no doubt, Brother Nick. Regardless, we need to find this Augustus Hatch before he takes matters into his own hands."

"You think he will?" Gene asks looking between his brothers. "I mean, the deadline is Friday and without Buddy, the whole will scam is kind of gone, right?"

"You bring up a good point Gene, but I think it's better to be safe," Frank chimes in. "Not to mention, I'd bet my badge that man only told us enough to keep suspicion off of himself, should this Auggie not succeed."

Jarrod takes in a deep breath and walks over to place a hand on Gene's shoulder as he watches the worry roll over his little brother. "I have to agree with Frank. There are too many legal maneuvers that would block the acquisition of our property through a contested will and our uncle would have contested it. Which would leave me to believe that the payout Auggie is hoping for is coming from another means. Unless he simply wanted to use it as collateral to extend his debt."

"Either way, until this Auggie is caught, we need to be careful." Nick finishes his brother's thought and they all agree.

Standing up from his desk, Fred looks around the room and thinks over all that has happened in only a week. He knows he's exhausted and can only imagine what this is taking out of the family in front of him.

"Well, boys, I say you and your security head on over to the hotel and get some rooms booked. I assume you all are staying in town until the boy, Heath, can be moved?" Fred asks and Jarrod nods their answer. "I figured. Listen, I wanted you all to know that before we met up with you all at the doc's place we stopped over at the Tyrone's house to speak with Wing Lee," he pauses.

"AND!" the ever impatient Nick blurts out.

Fred takes in a deep breath, "I'm sorry, but he's dead, poisoned. Looked like he had been that way for a few days." Hesitantly, he adds, "We did find a ledger that looks like it belonged to Buddy." Seeing their excitement he quickly holds up a hand. "Now hold on, we haven't had a chance to go through it, but once we do, and only if it's relevant, I'll send it over to you, Jarrod."

Placing a hand on Nick's arm in order to control the outburst he knows the other man is holding in, Jarrod responds, "Alright, Fred. We…," he looks pointedly at Nick, "...thank you."

"Now, if you boys will excuse us, Frank and I have a coherent prisoner to question and a man to locate." Fred smiles at the group, a little concerned by their lack of protest as the three head toward the door. "Jarrod, Nick, Gene." They all look his way. "We'll stop by later with an update, okay?"

"Of course, Fred," Jarrod agrees and pushes both his brothers through the door.

* * *

As the door to the hotel lobby swings open, the dutiful clerk looks up at the entourage of men walking into the establishment. He immediately recognizes the Barkley men, and he, being well informed on current events, can guess why they have some of their men with them. Always one to try to impress the most prominent family in Stockton, he quickly straightens his jacket and steps out from behind the counter to greet them himself. He can tell from there well-worn features that they have endured quite a hardship and if they plan to stay in town until this unfortunate business is concluded, then he plans to ensure they have absolutely everything they need.

"Mr. Barkley," he greets Jarrod first, since he is the oldest and now the patriarch of the family, "It is so good to see you and your brothers." He turns to Nick and Gene, to greet them as well, though stops short by the grunt of a response he gets from Nick and the strained smile he receives from Gene.

"Thank you, Alfred," Jarrod responds for the three of them and then ushers the group toward the counter hoping to check in.

"How can I be of service to you and your family?" Alfred keeps the smile plastered on his face as he moves to take his position behind the counter once again.

"Well, if our usual suite of rooms is available, we would like to reserve them."

"Yes, of course, of course." The clerk fumbles excitedly through the ledger and points to where Jarrod needs to sign before turning to grab the keys. "And will your mother and sister be joining you?"

"Yes, they will be by later," he says as he signs the ledger, his eyes taking a moment to skim the pages for any sign of the name Augustus. Looking up he smiles at the clerk and takes the keys from him. "They're just over at Dr. Merar's but will be by shortly for some much-needed rest."

"Oh, I do hope they are okay,' the clerk shifts slightly. "I, of course, heard about all that has happened this last week and I wanted to offer your family my services. If there is anything I can do to help you during your stay here, please just let me know." He looks up and meets Jarrod's eyes.

"Thank you, Alfred. Our family appreciates your thoughts," Jarrod replies, as he turns to hand Gene the keys.

Encouraged, the clerk dares to continue, "Your family did such an honorable thing, taking that boy in and for him to repay you by siccing his criminal relatives on you is just unthinkable."

If the man had had more sense he would have stopped there. He would have noticed the caged lion, in the form of a black-clad man, begging to break free. He would have noticed clinched lily- white fists forming on his ledger or even rage burning in the eyes of the soon to be physician. But, the man has no sense, and so he continues on.

"Just the devil's seed, nothing good comes from his kind…"

The man will never know who hit him, all he'll know is that in one instance he is on the floor with blood pouring from his nose and three Barkley men standing over him. Black gloves grab at the downed man's coat jacket and pulls the terrified clerk forward until he can feel the warmth of Nick's breath.

"I better never hear you talk about my brother like that again," Nick yells. Barely able to contain his rage, he doesn't hear the man he is holding whimpering. "That boy did nothing to provoke what happened and saved our lives!"

He throws the man back down and three Barkleys step over the crying clerk and push their way through the crowd as they head toward the stairs and the isolation they so desire in their suite of rooms.

* * *

Leaning his head back on the grey settee positioned toward the back of the private railcar he recently purchased to further broadcast his accumulation of wealth, he gazes up at the intricate design and allows his thoughts to wander to the meeting he had earlier in the day. A small smile spreads across his face and he thinks about the formidable Jarrod T. Barkley and how much he would love to test his mental agility against such a worthy foe. _Yes, you would be the perfect nemesis, Mr. Barkley,_ he laughs to himself.

The sound of the railcar door opening pulls him away from his daydreaming and he sits back up only to see Corel and Mason entering.

"Well?" he asks, watching the two men make their way into the room.

"We delivered your message, Boss," Corel answers as he removes his hat, remembering his boss's penchant for manners.

"And?" Cunningham prods the man for more information.

"I don't think he's going to listen. He seemed pretty dead set on his task, but we delivered the message just like you asked us too."

"Perfect. This could not have ended more poetically." He waves the men away as he turns to look out the window at the passing scenery and smiles.


	58. Chapter 58

Wiping her hands on the dry towel Ida had provided, Victoria looks down at the restless young man on the bed in front of her. She has been watching him slightly move underneath the light sheet protecting his modesty for the last couple of hours. The fever that has been so persistent throughout the day has begun to steadily rise over the last hour, and even though Howard told her this was to be expected, it is no less disheartening for her to watch. Reaching over, she removes the now warm cloth she had placed over the boy's forehead and dips it is in the ice-cooled water in the basin beside her. Wringing it out, she again lays it gently down underneath the wisps of blonde bangs that need to be trimmed and then ever so softly runs her fingers through the matted hair.

She aches for this boy, this son of her husband. After witnessing the cruelty inflicted upon him by his aunt and his uncle, her realization of what he must have endured throughout his life is no longer fragmented by her own pain. _Why did it take that for me to see? Why weren't Jim's words enough when he had described Heath's upbringing?_ Her thoughts haunt her as she sees his legs shift underneath the sheet as if he is trying to escape the heat engulfing his own body. His quiet moans cry out to her mother's heart and his mumbled words asking for some past tormentor to stop tear into her soul and force the water to build in her eyes. Leaning over, she whispers words of reassurances in his ears, hoping that somehow she can break through his tormented mind and offer him peace.

"How's he doing, Mother?" Audra asks as she gracefully glides into the room carrying another basin in her hands. Having taken a short nap, one that everyone had insisted she take, and one that, truth be told, she needed, she knew exactly where she would find her mother. Setting the basin down on the small table on the opposite side of Heath, she takes a seat in the empty chair and lifts a cloth out of the cool water. Wringing it out, she places it on the back of Heath's neck, careful not to drip any water on the bandages covering his mutilated back.

Hearing her daughter's voice, Victoria looks up at the still red-rimmed eyes across from her and does her best to give her a hopeful smile. She watches as her daughter cares for her brother and wonders at the fullness she feels in her heart until a realization dawns on her. Her words to Heath in that dark dank basement had not been empty, she does accept him and wants nothing more than for him to remain and be a part of their family. She knows that they all still have a lot to learn about each other and can only imagine the time it will take to gain the boy's trust, but with an exhilaration that she hasn't felt in years, she knows in her heart that this is meant to be and that it will be the best thing for all of them.

"He's fighting, dear," she says as she replaces the warm cloth that is laying across Heath's chest. "Fevers always rise at night. It's to be expected."

"Yes, Howard told me as much." Audra lets out a small sigh and watches as Heath again moves and mumbles incoherently. He is still propped up slightly on his side and his right arm is strapped to his chest in order to stop him from moving the shoulder too much. "He's getting more restless."

"It's the effect of the fever. I have a feeling we have a long night ahead of us," the knowledgeable matriarch says as she reaches over and methodically dips, wrings, and lays the cloth on the boy. She has had plenty of experience caring for the sick. "Once your brothers return, we'll need to take turns tending to Heath. If he becomes too restless we may need one of them to help keep him still."

The two sit in relative silence as they continue to care for the blonde and contemplate all that has happened in the course of the week. Their movements become unconscious and neither one notices the shift in the rise and fall of the boy's chest.

"Mother," Audra says as she looks up, breaking the silence. Her voice quivers a bit as she continues, "Do you think Heath will forgive us, for how we treated him these last two months since he came to us? We weren't exactly welcoming to him."

"I don't know," Victoria answers honestly, seeing the tears forming in her daughter's eyes.

"I was thinking on the way here," Audra continues, the tears now falling down her cheeks, "How horrible it must have been for him. Losing his mother the way he did and then coming to us, only to have us completely ignore him. He must have felt so alone, grieving, and then to have us ignore him and Nick…" Her glistening blue eyes ice over as her sadness is replaced with rage. "How could Nick be so cruel?"

Victoria's own eyes are now blurred by the grief forming within them. She can see her daughter's pain and knows her child's empathetic nature is finally feeling the brunt of all Heath has suffered.

"Nick let his anger at your father get the better of him, and since your father is not here, he took it out on Heath," she responds and then waves her hand to silence her daughter's rebuttal. "No, it doesn't make it right and I think Nick knows that now. I'm not sure what changed his mind but I think you have noticed the change in his attitude toward Heath."

Audra nods, she has noticed that Nick seems more protective of their new brother and can only hope that is a permanent change.

"Now, as you said," Victoria continues, "we can only hope that Heath will find it in his heart to forgive us."

"Nothing to… to for...forgive," the raspy, whispered reply shocks them both as Victoria looks down into two painfilled blue eyes.

* * *

"How DARE that arrogant, pompous, ass kisser insult OUR BROTHER!" Nick yells as he pushes past Jarrod and into their suite of rooms. Storming over to the liquor service tray delicately positioned on top of a mahogany buffet, he scoops up the decanter and generously pours himself a shot of whiskey. Gulping down the contents, he slams the glass down on top of the buffet causing the tray to rattle before plopping down into a wingback chair.

Looking over at his brothers, who are slowly making their way across the room, he runs his gloved hand over his face. He knows why the clerk felt it was okay to insult his youngest brother. He knows why no one in town will talk to the blonde or sell to the blonde. It is all his fault. He set the tone for how the town treats the kid. He ranted and raved and threw a big old Nick Barkley fit and threatened anyone that dared to try and make the boy feel welcome. T _he boy can't even get a beer at Harry's or get dinner at Cattlemen's._ He thinks as he lowers his head into his hand and remembers the countless times he has publicly bullied his little brother.

* * *

" _Good job today, men! First rounds on me," Nick yells and pats each man on the back as he makes his way through the crowd and up to the bar at Harry's. They had worked hard all week branding the cattle and deserved a chance to let off some steam. Picking up the mugs as soon as Harry sets them on the counter, he begins passing them him out when his hazel eyes meet blue and he stops cold._

" _What are you doing here," he growls at the boy, the boy shaming his family, destroying his father's good name. It's a rhetorical question, he knows why the kid is here, he was out working just as hard as the rest of them and must have thought he was included when he told them all to head into town._

 _Walking over to stand in front of the interloper, he stops short for a second as he sees the icy glare looking back at him. Looking around, he sees the men have already formed a circle around them, hoping that once again Nick Barkley will beat the boy senseless, or at least try to. He smiles at his men and pokes the kid in the chest._

" _I asked you a question, BOY!" Nick pokes him again and Heath takes a step back. Nick can tell the boy is steeling away his emotions. He sees the hurt flash across the kid's orbs, the tightened jaw, and the quick bob of his Adam's apple as gets himself under control. No, Nick doesn't miss any of that, but instead of allowing it to soften his heart, he chooses to allow those actions to feed his rage._

" _It's a public place. I came in here to get myself a beer," Heath lies through gritted teeth and bats away Nick's hand. He should've known when Nick called for an end to the day and for the men to head on into town that that invitation did not include him. But, he had dared to hope and once again that failed him._

 _Nick smiles and takes a step forward, his nose basically touching Heath's. "YOU SERVE BASTARDS, HARRY?" he yells. "LOW DOWN DIRTY MONGRELS? VERMIN NOT FIT TO BE NEAR DECENT FOLKS? IS THAT THE TYPE OF ESTABLISHMENT YOU'RE RUNNING HERE?"_

 _He looks over his shoulder and can see how uncomfortable Harry is as the bartender looks around the saloon. By now everyone in the room is standing and watching what is happening between the hot-headed Barkley and the bastard claiming to be Tom Barkley's woods colt._

" _Ah, well… ah," Harry stammers and looks around the room. He knows he doesn't want to be on Nick's bad side, but truth be told he has nothing against the kid. The boy has always been polite and helpful the few times he has interacted with him. Not that that matters much when Nick brings in so much of his income. Bowing his head, he finally answers, "No Nick, that is not the kind of establishment I run."_

" _See boy," Nick bellows, unexpectedly shoving Heath backward, almost causing him to fall. "Your kind ain't wanted here!" He goes to push Heath again but this time the blonde is ready and he pushes back, which causes Nick to smile right before he lays into the kid._

 _Heath knows how to fight, he learned at a very young age how to defend himself against the bullies in the world. But between his grief and the daily pounding he's been taking from Barrett and his crew since he came to the ranch, he's no match for the bigger, stronger Nick. He does get in a few good licks before he feels himself being hurled onto the street outside._

 _Laying there defeated in the muddy street, Heath sees the distinctive black boots of his brother come up and stand beside him. Curling into himself, trying to protect his overly battered ribs, he prepares himself for the stomping he is sure will come next. Instead, he feels someone grab a handful of his hair and force his head back to look up into the enraged eyes of his volatile brother. "Nobody wants you here. Not on the ranch and not in this town," he snarls before slamming Heath's head back into the ground._

* * *

"I did this!" Nick yells as he jumps up from the seat. "This is all my fault!"

"Now, Nick," Jarrod says as he walks over and places a hand on Nick's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother. "How Alfred acted is not your fault."

Ducking out from underneath his brother's hand, Nick walks over to the window and gazes out at the street below. "You don't understand," he almost whispers. "It is my fault. There have been countless times since he came here that I have publicly shamed him. And since no one DARES," his voice rises, "to go against the great Nick Barkley this whole town acts like he doesn't exist."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks over at his two brothers, both of whom are standing ready to come to his aid if needed. "How could I do that?" he croaks outs uncharacteristically showing emotions. "How could I do that to another person, let alone our brother? How could I be so cruel."

"Nick," Gene cuts in. "That's not who you are and Heath knows it. He told me as much."

Both his brothers cast him a disbelieving look before they each move closer to him. So he continues, "I found him in the barn a couple of weeks ago trying to rub liniment on the bruises on his chest. I could tell he had been in a fight from the fresh bruises on his face and I told him I'd take him to see Howard but he turned me down and asked me to promise not to say anything. I knew I shouldn't, but something in his eyes made me agree. Anyway, I asked him what happened and he wouldn't say but I kind of figured it had to do with you." He looks over to Nick, who looks down, ashamed.

"So, I told him you'd calm down eventually and he said it wasn't your fault. That you were angry and it was his fault for bringing all this upon the family and then he walked away." Gene stops talking and looks down at the floor. "I guess I should have told him it wasn't his fault either, but at the time I didn't even think of it, I was so confused about everything." He looks back up at his brothers. "Do you really think he thinks any of this is his fault?"

"I do," Jarrod says as he walks over and pours himself a drink. "I think life has been very unfair to our baby brother and for some reason, he thinks he caused it," he finishes.

'Well, I think it's time someone sets the boy straight," Nick says as he storms over to the door, grabbing his hat along the way. Grasping the door handle he looks back over at his now approaching brothers.

"Nick, wait. We need to talk about Hatch and Cunningham. We still need to figure out what is going on." Jarrod tries to reason with him causing Nick to stop and turn back toward them. Three pairs of eyes meet and Nick can see the pleading in his big brother's eyes asking him to stay so that they can figure out their next move. Almost conceding, he takes in a deep breath and looks over to his little brother Gene. The admiration and respect he sees looking back at him is the only catalyst he needs and he turns back around, opens the door, and yells back as he steps through.

"Y'all talk. Right now my baby brother needs me."


	59. Chapter 59

"Heath, sweetheart," Victoria answers as she smiles down at the boy before her. She can see the sincerity of his words shining through his overly expressive eyes and that for a moment causes her voice to catch as she gently runs her fingers through his hair. He is wrong. They have so much to apologize for, but now is not the time for discussions. Right now, all she wants is to help this boy, this new son who she has taken into her heart, to get better.

"Shh," she soothes and reaches over to grab the glass of cool water from the nightstand. His eyes follow her every move. "We can talk about that later, but for now all I want is for you to concentrate on getting well. Now here…," she says as she gently lifts his head and holds the glass to his lips, "…take a few sips of water and then I will give you a few sips of broth."

Tilting back the glass, she encourages him to take in a few sips before laying him back against the pillow. He struggles to calm his breathing, as the effort of talking and swallowing is too great on his weakened body and he closes his eyes as he works to compose himself. Grabbing hold of the cool cloth laying inside the basin, she goes back to trying to tame the fever scorching through him. It is not long before she sees his blue eyes, _her husband's blue eyes_ , open once again and look up at her.

"Thank you," he smiles shyly, "Never had so many people fussing over me," he continues, his raspy voice barely above a whisper. Their eyes meet and she wonders how much of the flushed face is the effects of fever and not the enduring blush she has come to notice in the last week.

"Well you best get used to it, young man," Victoria answers, smiling back at him, her voice jokingly stern. She watches as his eyes close before she glances up at Audra, who has fresh tears on her face.

Audra smiles at her mother before leaning down to kiss the hot forehead of her blonde brother. "Yes, you better," she agrees. "Now hurry and get well big brother," she whispers soothingly into his ear.

Seeing his eyes flutter open and his head turn ever so slightly as he tries to focus in on her face, she leans in again, this time her face full of mischief, "and don't worry, I have plenty of sugar cubes for Gal. We are becoming the best of friends." She teases.

"Audra," he quietly, playfully growls, "don't…go stealing my horse…" He closes his eyes and swallows hard taking in a few gasps of air. He can't help the moan that escapes his lips but thankfully he doesn't see the fear exchanged by the two ladies watching over him. "She's already…," he starts again, "...addicted. She ain't never gonna want to leave," he finishes and flashes them a small crooked smile.

Audra giggles through her tears and leans in once more, as she gently takes a cool cloth and lays it on the back of his neck. She smiles at the small sigh she hears as the momentary relief washes over him. "Good, because I don't want either of you to leave," she says, as she watches him close his eyes and fall back into a fitful sleep.

Reaching over she grasps her mother's hand and the two say a silent prayer as they focus on the rise and fall of the boy's chest. They listen as the fever induced moans come with more frequencies as night descends upon them. Going back to trying to cool their patient, the two miss the sounds of spurs entering the room and jump slightly when they hear a familiar, distinctive voice.

"Mind if I sit with him for a bit," Nick says as he nervously twirls his hat around in his hands.

Victoria and Audra both stare at Nick with an incredulous look as their hearts calm and they allow the words he spoke to move through them. They can both see the sincerity in his eyes and without hesitation rise from their chairs to allow Nick to move in closer. As they pass, Victoria stops to embrace her son and immediately recognizes the doubt, the self-incrimination, the need for forgiveness, dancing through his hazel eyes.

"Of course, dear," she smiles still looking directly at him. She knows this side of Nick, the protective, loyal, loving man, who would do anything for his family. She also recognizes that that family now includes Heath. "We'll go meet Jarrod and Gene at the hotel."

Nodding, Nick takes the now vacant seat in front of Heath. "Ok, take Willy, Todd, and Eli with you. They're waiting outside," he answers, clearly distracted. His eyes are focused on the boy before him.

The two Barkley women stand in the doorway for a moment and observe Nick as he carefully removes the cloth from Heath's forehead and dips it in the cool water before wringing out and replacing it. Knowing that Heath could not be in better hands, the two women take their leave just as they hear Nick begin talking.

"Hey little brother, it's Nick."

* * *

Moving stiffly across the carpeted floor, the bruised man looks out over the items lined perfectly across the room's dresser. The items, dynamite and rifle shells, are all intended to save his land, but the truth is he is not an assassin. He is a businessman. He doesn't want to harm anyone, he wants to work his land, grow his produce, and plant his almonds. But, unfortunately, the only way to do that is to get the money to pay Cunningham before Friday's deadline.

"How did I come to this?" he laments, as he picks up the dynamite and examines the length of the wick. He had tried his hand at mining, back in his younger days, but he has never had to light the fuse and run for cover. _How long will it burn before it reaches the end?_ He wonders as he sets the stick back down and runs his fingers over the rifle shells.

He knows how he got here. It was his inflated self-worth and continuous boasting that caught the eye of the devil, who, in his tailored suits and pencil-thin grin, stroked his ego. _Why didn't I have a lawyer review the contracts?_ He thinks for the millionth time as he walks over to the small table and pours himself a glass of scotch. He never thought he wouldn't be able to meet the deadline after three years of labor, his product was all but a sure thing. In fact, up until six months ago, he was right on track to deliver payment ahead of schedule. He just didn't count on the corrupt practices of his greedy land-grabbing landlord, who was working to sabotage him at every turn, slowly debilitating his funds until there was next to nothing left and no way for him to recover. Yes, Joshua Cunningham is the only person who truly deserves to die. _Nice trick Cunningham, a nifty little clause protecting you from an untimely death. Very clever, you bastard!_

Now, in two days, because of a desperate drunken agreement with a faceless man, unless he finds a way to end the Barkley line, everything that he has worked to achieve in the last three years will be handed over to the dirty scoundrel who set him up for failure, and all those who work for him will be unemployed and penniless. _Is it worth the price of my soul?_ He murmurs to himself as he thinks about the families in his employ. Some of his workers have already left, seeking employment elsewhere, knowing that without a miracle there was no way to save all they had accomplished. Others, like the two men he is waiting on to report back to him, dug their heels in deeper and decided to cast aside their morals and do whatever they have to do to protect what is theirs.

A knock on the door draws his attention and without much thought, he heads over and throws the door open. _Maybe a part of me hopes to get caught._ He smiles at the thought and then stands aside while his men hurry into the room.

"Well?" he asks, looking between the faces of the two men. Jack, the older of the two, has been with him since the start and swore his loyalty to the man who over time has become a good friend. In better times, they would sit by the fire enjoying one of the finer scotches and a Cuban cigar, all while joking about there greying hair, bad backs, wives who spend all their money.

"One of 'ems hurt pretty badly and staying at the doc's. The family's been in and outta there most of the day. The two women left right before I did and one of the brothers stayed in their place," Jack informs and then looks down at his boots as the waves of doubt pour over him. "You sure you wanna do this Auggie? Don't you think there might be a better way? You sure the law can't help you?"

Seeing the distress in the other man's eyes, Auggie walks over and firmly grips Jack's shoulder, "I wish there was, my friend. I truly do," he says and then walks over to pours them all a drink. Turning back he addresses the younger man, "What do you think, Chuck?"

"Well, if we can get them all in the same room with the injured boy," he answers, keeping his eyes firmly connected to his boss'. The two men beside him had rescued him from a life underground and allowed him to work in the sun for the last few years. The last thing he wants to do is disappoint them even though he isn't to keen on killing anyone. Even so, he has done it before when he saw no other option and now it looks like he is going to have to do it again. "I think I could rig the dynamite to just take out the one room."

"Can you do it in the dark? Tonight?" he asks as he hands them both a drink.

"I think so," he pauses and walks over to the window to gaze up toward the sky. "The moon's bright. Should give me enough light."

"Good," he says, lifting his glass to both of them. "Let us share one last drink and then," he turns to Jack, "I want you to go home to Phyllis."

He knows the old man doesn't have the heart to carry out what needs to be done but out of loyalty to their friendship, he has followed him down this dangerous path. The last thing he wants is to make this man an accessory to his crimes. The kid though, well he is different. He grew up on the streets and won't think twice about doing what needs to be done in order for them to survive.

"Auggie, I can't…," Jack protests.

"Yes, you can," Auggie answers as he begins pushing him toward the door. "You've done enough," he says as he opens the door behind him and pushes his friend out into the hall. "Just remember your promise if this doesn't work."

"I will," Jack replies and the two men shake just before he walks away.

Closing the door, he turns re-enters the room, then looks up at his now solo companion, "Alright kid, we don't have much time. Let's get to work!"


	60. Chapter 60

Rubbing his fingers across his face, the dark-haired rancher lets out a small sigh as the hours of sitting and tending to his youngest brother finally begin to take their toll. Twisting gently to stretch the cramped muscles throbbing in his lower back, he reaches his arms over his head to straighten his posture and lets out a loud vocal breath as he feels his body loosen. Standing up from his chair, he feels the blood begin to flow through his stagnant limbs helping to shake the exhaustion he feels.

He doesn't remember the last time he was able to get a good night's sleep and from the threat still looming over the family, he doesn't think he will be getting one any time soon. _How has so much happened in a week?_ he wonders as he sits back down and once again moves to replace the now warm cloth on his brother's forehead with a cool one. _At least he seems to be finally sleeping,_ he thinks, as he looks down at the relaxed face of his baby brother. Gently, he places a hand on the boy's cheek, testing for fever.

"Fever doesn't seem to want to loosen its grip on you," he says aloud, a little shocked at his own raspy voice. "Guess we're gonna have to fight a little harder. I need you well if you're gonna be running the ranch with me. It's a working ranch, ya know!" he jokes.

Getting no response, he smiles as he thinks about how much better the silence is compared to the endless stream of tormented mumbling the boy has done since he took over for his mother and sister; ramblings that offered the rancher a deeper glimpse into the past of the young blonde and also deepened the guilt tearing apart Nick's heart. _God, how I wish I had been the one to kill his aunt and uncle or at least beat them into the ground before they met their maker._ He lets out a small growl as he thinks about the pleas of a young boy, begging them to stop, coming out in the feverish dreams of the young man before him.

"Speaking of a working ranch...," he starts, in a low quiet voice that no one would expect from the often loud rancher, "...I was thinking once," he pauses, unsure, he looks down at his hands, "... well, once you are back on your feet and all this has passed, that the two of us might take on fixing up a couple of the line shacks. Thought it'd be a good way for us to get to know each other. Course, I plan to ask you when you're awake, but thought…"

"Nick?"

The unexpected voice sends a shocked Nick flying from his seat as he turns to meet the intruder head on. Instinctively, he reaches for his gun only find his hips void of their normal entrapment, so instead, he balls his hands into fists as he looks with bulging eyes into the laughing face of Alpha. The tray the younger man is holding is shaking in rhythm with his shoulders as he is unable to stop the bubbling fit of joy overflowing at Nick's expense. His gesture of friendship in the form of a much-needed coffee break is spilling out onto the small tray but this does nothing to calm the laughing man.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BOY? TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!" Nick bellows in his normal loud boisterous voice before breaking out into a smile at his own expense, realizing how funny he must have looked.

"Sorry, Nick," Alpha chokes out as he works to calm himself. "I just thought you might want some coffee, seeing how it's getting so late and all. I didn't mean to scare, ya."

"It's alright. Guess I'm a bit jumpy," he laughs as he picks up the chair he inadvertently knocked to the ground. Glancing over at the messy tray, he asks, "Any coffee left in those cups?"

"A little," Alpha again laughs. "I just put on a full pot so I can go get us two new cups. Just try to remember I'm coming back!"

"HA HA," Nick snaps dryly as he watches the other man leave the room.

A few moments later, Alpha returns and hands Nick a fresh cup of coffee before finding a seat near Heath.

"How's he doing?" he asks as he looks up at Nick.

Taking in a deep breath, Nick sips the coffee before answering, "Fever is about the same but he seems to be resting better, not as much tossing and mumbling as before."

"That's good," Alpha says as he sets his coffee on the table beside him. "His fevers usually bring on nightmares, like with his defenses down he can't stop them."

"Yeah, earlier he was calling out. Most of it was just mumbling a few names here and there," Nick looks up at Alpha, "Begging his aunt and uncle to stop, calling out to someone named Eddie to hold on and then someone named Teddy. Most of it didn't really make sense."

At the mention of the name Teddy, Alpha glances down at the floor and shifts nervously in his seat.

"Teddy was my brother," he finally says, "He was older than both of us but during the war they were assigned to the same unit for a while and got to be good friends," he pauses and his jaw tightens as if he is deliberately leaving out something, an action not missed by Nick. "Later on they both ended up working for Frank."

For a moment Alpha goes quiet and stares off into nothing leaving Nick to wonder what more there is to the story. He had picked up on Alpha's use of the word was when talking about his brother, so he is left to assume the other man is dead. What that has to do with Heath, he is not sure but knows better than to interrupt the other man's thinking. So, the normally inpatient rancher simply sits, sipping at his coffee, until Alpha begins to speak again.

"He, uh…, well he died a few years back, bank robbery," Alpha answers the questioning look in Nick's eyes and then rubs his hands on his thighs before he continues, "They were tracking the McConnell gang and had found them in a small town south of Fresno. The local sheriff had been bought off so it was just the two of them. They decided to make their way up to Fresno to wire Frank for more backup, but it turned out they got to Fresno the same day the gang decided to rob the bank. Neither Teddy nor Heath are the type to stand by and do nothing so they went about trying to stop them." He takes in a deep breath and runs his hand over his eyes.

"They did pretty well, even being outnumbered like they were," his voice strained. "But then Mitch, the leader, grabbed a young girl and her brother to use as shields and ordered them to come out and throw their guns down. Not seeing much choice they did as they were told and offered themselves as shields if he'd just let the kids go. He did, and they found themselves being tied up and dragged off with the gang."

"Heath won't talk much about what happened after that, but from their injuries, it was clear the gang had some fun with them before dumping 'em with no water and no horse in the desert. Somehow they made it back to town but Teddy died a few hours later."

"I'm so sorry, Alpha." Nick reaches over and gives a comforting squeeze to the other man's shoulder. "I can't imagine losing one of my brothers."

"And I hope you never do," Alpha responds and then glances down at Heath, who shifts slightly underneath the light sheet covering him.

Seeing Heath moving, Nick quickly sets down his coffee and then reaches over to remove the warm cloths from his brother's head and neck. Dipping them in the cool water, he gently replaces them as he quietly whispers encouraging words to Heath, telling him to get better and all the work they need to do on the ranch. As the blonde settles, he leans back in his chair only to look up at the smiling man sitting near him. Embarrassed he reaches over for his coffee and then turns the conversation back to Teddy.

"I remember reading that the McConnell gang was captured and that a few of them were hung and the rest were sentenced to life in prison."

"Yep," Alpha nods and points at Heath, "It was the last thing he did as Frank's deputy. He said it was the least he could do for Teddy and for us."

"Heath brought them in?" There was no mistaking the pride in Nick's voice.

Alpha smiles, "There ain't much he can't do when he sets his mind to it." With that said, he stands up and looks down at Nick, making the larger man a little uncomfortable. "Look, just be honest with him. I can see you are feeling guilty about all that has happened. Heath doesn't need that, his life has been hard enough and your guilt will make him feel guilty for coming here." He waves his hand to silence Nick as the confusion spreads across the rancher's face.

"No, it don't make sense, but that boy," he looks down at Heath, "feels guilty for just about everything." Looking back over at Nick, he starts to walk away but turns back before he gets to the door. "All he needs is a family he can count on, more importantly, he needs a brother and a friend. You two have a lot in common, a love of the land, horses, and ranching. You remind me a bit of my brother, Teddy, all big and tough and confident. I think you might be just what Heath needs."

The two stare at each other for a few minutes longer before Nick finally just nods his head in agreement.

"I think he might be just what I need as well," Nick says with conviction, his heart knowing the words he spoke are the truth.

He doesn't watch as Alpha leaves choosing to instead turn back to face Heath. He reaches for the warm cloths and this time is met with two slits of blue looking back at him. The left eye so horribly swollen only a few days ago has started to heal and while it is still bruised and puffy the boy can at least open it again. Smiling down at his baby brother, he takes the cloth off his forehead, dips it in the cool water and instead of laying it back down, he uses it to cool off the rest of Heath's face. Hearing a small sigh from his patient, he knows he made the right call.

"Hey Heath, how about a little water?" Nick asks his voice quiet and calm. Seeing the small nod, he gets up and pours a glass of water and then helps his ailing brother to take just two small sips. "Take it slow, Doc doesn't want you to get sick."

"I don't want to get sick." Heath quips, his voice hoarse and only a whisper.

"I bet you don't!" Nick sets the glass down. "That would NOT feel good on those ribs."

Heath casts him a small smile before he closes his eyes and tries to shift his position, which only results in pain rippling through his beaten form. Biting down on his bottom lip, he can't help the moan that echoes in the quiet room.

"Boy, what are you doing?" Nick yells and is instantly on his feet ready to help in any way he can. "You want to open up all the doc's handy work?"

"Sorry, Nick," Heath breathlessly responds. "Just wanted to change positions."

Sitting back down in the chair beside his brother, Nick leans in and waits for the blue eyes to open once again.

"You got nothing to apologize for, you got that! Nothing at all! You just need to remember you got people here to help you." He waits for the blonde head to acknowledge him before moving closer. "Now how can I help?"

"My left arm is tingling." Heath whispers, "Thought maybe I could move off that shoulder some."

"Well, Doc doesn't want you on your back, but we might be able to prop you up a little more on the back of that shoulder." Reaching down, careful to not touch the open wounds on the boy's back, Nick wraps his arms across the kid's shoulders.

"Okay now, let me do the work," Nick says as he gently lifts and slightly shifts Heath so that he is now propped up on the back of his left shoulder and not on the side. Feeling Heath's muscles tense and knowing that any movement had to hurt, he gives Heath a few minutes to compose himself before asking him his next question.

"How's that?" he finally asks as he sees the blue eyes looking up at him.

"Better, thanks." Heath answers and continues to stare at his older brother. He watches as the hazel eyes shift nervously from the floor to his face and he figures this brother has something he needs to say. The lure of sleep is already calling his battered form and while he is comfortable waiting he decides the least he can do is give this brother the opening he is looking for.

"Something on your mind, Nick?" he asks, not having the energy for his normal wit.

Keeping his eyes locked on blue, Nick leans back in his chair as he wonders where to begin. Coming over here from the hotel, he was determined to apologize to the boy for all his mistreatment and then hope the kid would forgive him, but after talking with Alpha he wonders if that is the best approach.

"Yeah, Heath, there is and it's something I need to tell you," he nods his head as he answers and then takes in a deep breath, "Look, Heath, I…" his voice trails off as he tries to figure out where to start.

"We already… started over, Nick." Heath gets out, his energy waning.

"I know and I thank you for that. I'm not sure I deserve it but I aim to make sure I don't take it for granted." Nick leans in closer and grabs the warm cloth repeating the actions he has done so many times tonight. "I guess that's what I wanted to tell you. It's been one crazy week and amongst all the chaos, I started to get to know the man you are. And as much as I have fought you being here, the truth is I'm proud that you are my brother. Then thinking about all the things I put you through since you came here. I've never been so ashamed of my actions, I just couldn't see past my own blind rage."

"Nick, I.."

"Oh no, don't you say it," Nick cuts him off and stands abruptly causing Heath to flinch. "Don't say it's cause you came here. Because that is not it, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I know that now."

He paces beside the bed as his pent up energy cries for a release. Grabbing the back of his chair he swings it around and straddles the seat, resting his head on his forearms.

"I'm glad you're here, Heath. I'm glad you found us and I am DAMN glad you're willing to give me a second chance. I promise when this is all over things are going to be different."

"You sure, Nick?" Heath slurs out as he fights to keep his eyes open.

"I've never been surer," he soothes as he watches the blue eye close. "Now hurry up and get better. We got a ranch to run!" The small smile that dawns the boy's face sends a peaceful warmth through him and he can't stop the big smile spreading across his own. Y _ep, Heath, you and me running the ranch. Man, that feels right. As soon as this mess is over and you are back on your feet we are going to have so much work to do._

"Nick?"

"Yeah, Heath," Nick responds as he changes out the cloths once again. He watches, hoping for the rhythmic breathing of sleep to resume.

"I think Doc has a critter living in his crawl space under the house."


	61. Chapter 61

She watches as her rugged son gently lifts his youngest brother to lay against him as the doctor begins the painful process of cleaning the wounds on his back. The boy, to his credit, remains quiet with only the occasional moan showing that he is in any discomfort. In fact, if not for the white-knuckled grip he has on the sheet below him, he would look as if he was simply sleeping with his head resting on his older brother's shoulder.

 _What a sight the two of them are; so different and yet so alike as well,_ she thinks as she slides further into the room, the rest of her children following in close behind her. The four had wasted no time this morning making their way from the hotel back to the doctor's office, anxious to check in on both Heath and Nick. Taking her place beside Nick, she gently rubs his back as she listens to the calming words he is whispering in Heath's ear. Words that speak of the ranch, the horses, and all the work that they will be doing once he is well. Words that speak of the acceptance they all feel toward the lonely boy who barged in and changed their lives forever.

Reaching over she softly places the back of her hand on Heath's cheek, confirming that the fever that has been ravaging his body still has a strong hold on the young man. She meets Nick's worried eyes and then looks up at Howard as he finishes cleaning the last laceration and directs Nick to lie the blond back down. No one in the room misses the gentleness Nick bestows upon his youngest brother as he props him back on the back side of his left shoulder. Taking a seat vacated earlier by Nick, Victoria watches as Heath works through the pain the movement causes and then settles back against the soft pillows.

"How's he doing?" she asks, looking up at Howard.

"M'fine," comes a mumbled response from the still form in the bed, surprising them all.

"You'll **be** fine," Dr. Merar smiles down at his stubborn patient and then looks back to the family in the room. "You're not quite **fine** , yet." he laughs, causing the whole family to relax.

"Course he's going to be fine!" Nick adds, in his usual exuberance. He lightly grips Heath's blanket covered calves as if that in itself makes his words true. "He's a Barkley, ain't he!"

At this statement, Audra can't help the snicker that escapes her lips nor the smile that spreads across her face. _Finally,_ she thinks as she looks at Nick and once again recognizes the big brother she loves so much.

"Yes, yes… stubborn Barkleys," Dr. Merar chuckles and then turns to look directly at Victoria. "The wounds on his back are healing nicely and the bullet wound shows no further sign of infection. His fever hasn't risen which tells me his body is fighting off the remnants of the earlier infection. We still need to keep a close eye on him, make sure the fever doesn't rise, but barring no complications you should be able to take him home in a couple of days."

He looks around at the smiles covering all of their faces and is happy he is able to give them some good news after the week they have been through. He can tell the night of rest has done them all a world of good and that each of them feels ready to solve this problem they have found themselves in once and for all.

"How long before I can put this boy to work?" Nick cuts in, his hand still on Heath's leg. He sees the small smile creep onto the boy's face and watches as two blue eyes open and look up at him. Smiling down, he adds, "I need my partner working beside me!"

"Yes, well," Howard starts not noticing the exchange between the two men, "that I'm afraid is going to take much longer. His right shoulder suffered a bad dislocation, and while he is young and I expect he will make a full recovery, it is going to take some time. We'll start him with some exercises and build from there."

"Of course, Howard," Victoria quickly states before Nick can offer up any type of rebuttal. "We'll make sure he follows your instructions," she adds in a tone reserved only for mothers. She looks directly at Nick who shies away. She doesn't miss the wink he sends to the boy in the bed and knows there will be some of Nick's famous shenanigans. _Might be good for them, as long as Heath doesn't get hurt,_ she thinks, smiling.

"Yes, yes," Dr. Merar responds doubtfully. He's been dealing with Barkley men for far too long to believe they will fully listen to his instructions. _Why would this new Barkley be any different_ , he laughs to himself as he gathers up his tools. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have another stubborn patient in the next room to deal with."

"Speaking of Jim," Jarrod steps forward, "How is he?"

"He's going to be fine as well. He was very lucky it was just a graze. He'll have some headaches off and on but he should be up and about in the next few days." He turns and heads toward the door. "I'll be back later to check on you," he looks directly at Heath before he turns and leaves.

"Well, it seems our luck is changing," Jarrod says as he smiles and looks around at his family. Audra has moved to sit on the other side of Heath and has begun helping to change out the cool cloth on the back of his neck. Nick is still standing beside the bed and Gene is now standing beside him.

"Now my brothers," Jarrod continues and then pauses realizing what he is about to say and how he unintentionally almost left out his new brother. "Except for you, Brother Heath," he smiles at the boy who is watching them all, intently, "I expect you to remain here and allow these two beautiful women to pamper you while your three big brothers go and meet with the Sheriff and Frank."

Seeing the distress flash across the azure eyes, Nick kneels so that he is eye level with the kid. "You've done more than enough, little brother. It's time for you to rest and let your big brothers take care of things. Trust us," he finishes and then nods at the boy making sure he understands. The small nod back sets him at ease as he rises back to his feet. Before heading toward the door, he leans over and gives Victoria a kiss on her cheek.

Jarrod and Gene follow Nick's example, walking over to give their mother a kiss before heading toward the door.

"Don't worry, Mother," Jarrod comforts, as he kisses Victoria goodbye. "This will all be over soon enough and we'll be able to return home in the next couple of days."

"And don't forget, there are men guarding the front and back doors if there's trouble," Nick adds, "It'd be best if you'd stay inside until we return."

Watching her three sons walk out through the door, Victoria chokes back her emotions and then takes in a deep breath to compose herself. Fred and Frank had stopped by their hotel last night to offer them an update on what they had discovered about Augustus Orrin Hatch. Their meeting did little to put her at ease. Desperate men are dangerous, reckless, and the last thing she wants is her sons to be the ones to confront him. But, then they wouldn't be the men she and Tom raised if they didn't and she is definitely proud of who they have become.

Turning back, she meets her daughter's worried eyes and then feels a calloused hand wrap around hers, offering her support. Looking over at her remaining children, _yes, her children,_ she offers them a comforting smile. She can see that Heath is starting to drift off again, into the sleep his body so desperately needs. Running her fingers through his blond hair she encourages him to relax as she and Audra begin to talk about frivolous things in an attempt to distract themselves from the worry they feel.

* * *

The bright glare of the morning sun temporarily blinds the brothers as they make their way across the street toward Fred's office. Two of their men are traveling with them, staying toward the back, keeping an eye on any activity around them. Jarrod is quick to notice that Nick's confident strides set him ahead of everyone else as he hurries toward their destination.

 _He walks as if excited to face this next challenge,_ Jarrod thinks as he works to catch up. _That is Nick, a man of action. He just can't be idle for too long._

Glancing back, he notices Gene, scurrying along, grumbling with every step as Jarrod imagines every movement is reawakening the bruises covering the torso of the college kid. _I bet he will be happy to return to school. He's not meant for a life filled with hard labor,_ he laughs to himself. In some ways, he can't help but find the scene comical as he marvels at how different he and his siblings are. He wonders where Heath will fit into this odd dynamic but so far the quiet unassuming young man has not given Jarrod a glimpse into his personality. _More like, I haven't bothered to look._

"Nick," Jarrod calls out. "Wait up. Some of us are not moving that fast this morning. Plus, we are supposed to be taking precautions, there is still a man out there who means to do us harm."

Abruptly stopping, Nick turns with his hands on his hips and waits for his two brothers to catch up to him. It doesn't get past Jarrod that his brother's happy gait is being complemented with a large smile spread across his face. In fact, Jarrod swears he can hear his rancher brother whistling as he makes his way across town, if that was in his character.

"Alright, spill!" Jarrod walks up to stand nose to nose with his loud brother. "What do you know? What did you do?"

Knowing his brother is on to him, Nick's smile broadens but he says nothing as he jerks his arm away and in a gesture obnoxiously overt, he waves them toward the sheriff's door. Hesitantly, wondering what Nick is up to, Jarrod makes his way inside followed slowly by Gene and then by Nick. As they walk further into the room, they see both Frank and Fred sitting, drinking a cup of coffee with their feet up on Fred's desk.

"Morning, gentlemen," Fred waves them in, "It's about time you got here. Help yourself to some Arbuckle before we get started."

Not wanting to be rude, Jarrod and Nick walk over and help themselves to a cup of coffee while Gene eases himself into one of the empty chairs in the room. As he pours, the lawyer doesn't miss the silent exchange between Frank and Nick, both of whom seem very pleased with themselves. Walking back toward the desk, Jarrod sips at the streaming beverage as he takes a seat beside Gene and then turns to Frank.

"I take it from the silent exchange happening between you and my brother," Jarrod smiles, "that you have some news for us this morning? Good news?"

"I've been told you are good at reading people, Jarrod. Makes sense in your line of work," Frank laughs and then drops his feet back to the floor. Rising up, he stretches a kink out of his back before turning to Fred. "Fred, would you like to do the honors? It is your jail after all."

"Certainly, Frank, it'd be my pleasure," Fred says as he plops his feet down and then stands up to full height. Grabbing his keys off his desk, he motions for the three brothers to follow him toward the door that separates the main offices from the cells in the back.

"I take it you had no trouble this morning, then?" Nick asks as he follows the sheriff.

"No trouble at all," Fred happily answers as he opens the dividing door and walks into the back room with the three Barkleys following close behind. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to one Auggie Hatch and his accomplice Chuck Thune."

Turning wide-eyed toward the cells, Jarrod looks in to see an older gentleman sitting slumped, defeated in the corner and beside him is a frightened young man who looks to be in his early twenties.

"I..I don't understand," Jarrod stumbles over his words making Nick laugh. He looks over at Fred and then at the dark-haired rancher. "How did you find them, and Nick, how did you know?"

"Well big brother," Nick throws his arm over his brother's shoulders and turns him back toward the door. "It was all Heath. That kid is full of surprises. Now how bout we step back into Fred's office while you recover yourself and I'll tell you the whole story. Then I say we take those two out of that cell and get to the bottom of this mess once and for all."

"Sounds like an excellent plan to me, Brother Nick," Jarrod agrees as the shock of seeing the man responsible for the suffering his family has endured the last week sitting behind bars. _Yes, Brother Nick, I would very much like to get to the bottom of this!_


	62. Chapter 62

The shuffling noise of multiple feet draws their attention away from their conversation and from the patient who is resting comfortably between them, as the two women turn toward the open door of the examination room. Standing in the doorway they see Jim making his way slowly into the room with the help of both Alpha and Dr. Merar. Other than a couple of wobbles the man looks steady on his feet and more annoyed with the help than in actual need of it.

"Jim," Victoria quickly rises and walks over to greet their guests, "it's so good to see you up and about."

"It's good to be up and about." He smiles at Victoria in greeting. "How's our boy doing?" he asks as he continues to make his way over to the bed where Heath is sleeping.

"He's doing better," Victoria answers as she steps to the end of the bed, leaving a clear path to the chair she just vacated. _A visit from Jim will do Heath a world of good!_ she thinks as she watches as Jim takes a seat beside the bed and then reaches up to take the hand of the boy he cares so much about.

"He managed some scrambled eggs this morning," she continues both to Jim and to Howard, who is now standing beside her, "and his fever is about the same."

"That's good news," Jim replies keeping his eyes focused on the bed, taking his other hand and running his fingers through the blond locks. "Yep, thatta boy, Heath," he whispers to the young man, "You just keep doing what the doc says and you are going to be just fine."

"Yes, he is," Dr. Merar adds as he watches the touching scene. "Now if you folks will excuse me, Ida and I need to head over to the Parson's place. She sent word her next child will be born today, and this being her sixth I am inclined to believe her!" He laughs as he bids them farewell and turns to leave.

"I'll be back later today," he calls over his shoulder and then turns back to the group. "Oh and Jim," his stern voice draws the lawman's attention away from Heath. "Don't stay too long, you still need to rest and make sure you let Alpha help you. Don't want to risk blacking out and busting your head open again on the way back to your bed."

Alpha, who is now standing in the corner near Audra, just laughs as his uncle scowls and mumbles about not needing any help to walk up the hall. He knows his uncle is anxious to get back out there and help find those responsible for this mess. They have both become fond of the Barkleys and with their obvious feelings toward Heath, they would like nothing more than to get this situation resolved so that they can help encourage the blond to accept and settle in with his new family.

"Don't worry, Doc," Alpha calls out to Dr. Merar as the doctor heads out the door. "I'll make sure he listens."

Watching Howard leave, Victoria turns back to the group gathered in the small examination room. Jim seems at peace just watching the rise and fall of Heath's chest and Alpha seems very happy to be watching Audra switch out the cloths being used to cool her brother. She smiles at the scene and prays her other sons return with news that this is finally over so that they can begin to heal as a family.

"Audra, darling," Victoria says and then waits for her daughter to look up at her. "Why don't we give Jim and Alpha some time with Heath while the two of us put something together for lunch?"

"Yes, Mother," Audra replies but her eyes do not leave Jim who is still whispering into Heath's ear. She can see the devotion this man has for her brother and knows that her mother's request, to let Jim have some time alone with Heath, is something that will do both of them a world of good. Standing, she walks back to where Victoria is and then motions for Alpha to take the now empty seat. Blushing, the young man plops down and quickly takes over as nursemaid for his friend.

Victoria wraps her arm around Audra's waist as the two women make their way toward the door just as the faint sound of galloping horses can be heard outside. The muffled sound of one of their men calling out to the riders demanding they state their purpose, causes the two women to stop. A small shiver runs through Jim as the accomplished lawmen begins to stand, waiting for a response to the unanswered question. His glances down to see frightened pale blue eyes looking up at him before he rushes over to where Victoria and Audra are standing, all the while yelling, "GET DOWN!"

Within seconds the quiet touching scene they had all just experienced is shattered by a hail of gunfire erupting all around them. Victoria and Audra fall to the ground as Jim tries to shelter them. Heath throws himself off the bed and begins to crawl toward Jim, while Alpha does the same. The sound of glass shattering and wood splitting engulfs them as bullets ricochet around the room turning the once carefully organized area into annihilated ruins.

Thinking quickly, Heath and Alpha grab the legs of the large examination table and work to tip it over on its side. The resounding clatter of the wood table hitting the floor is barely heard over the never-ending sound of gunfire. Dragging his knees up underneath him but making sure to stay low, Heath leans back on his heels and uses the table for protection. Grabbing onto the legs, he motions for Alpha to do the same. Quickly realizing what Heath has planned, Alpha gets up and grabs the other legs and together the two push the table toward Jim and the women until the group is successfully hidden behind it.

Breathing heavily, Heath slumps down as he looks to the others. "Y'all… okay?" he gasps, as he works to level out his breathing. Three pairs of eyes look up at him and nod their heads, though no one dares to move as the onslaught continues. They all know they are going to have to do something, that staying where they are is as good as signing their own death certificates. But with only one gun between the five of them, they also know that their chance of successfully moving is slim to none.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Jarrod says as he leans back in the chair he has been sitting in for the last twenty minutes while Nick told the story of how their two main suspects ended up in Fred's jail. "You're telling me this all started with Heath mentioning that he thought Dr. Merar had some kind of animal living underneath his house?" he continues as he lets out a loud sigh and runs a hand over his face.

"Yep, that's what I'm saying," Nick laughs at the astonished look on his brother's face. They had been at this for a while and Jarrod still looks as though he doesn't believe a word of it, as if nothing can be this simple. "Heath felt something under doc's house and Frank and I figured that it must be pretty big for him to feel it while lying on the bed."

Nick looks over to Frank to back him up and the lawmen can't help but chuckle at how the lawyer is taking their tale. He's known many lawyers throughout his life and he swears they can complicate a ham sandwich if left to their own devices for too long.

"That really is it, Jarrod," Franks chimes in. "I went by after I left you all, to check on the boy. He was asleep but Nick told me what he said and I thought we should investigate. I've known Heath for a long time and he wouldn't have mentioned it if he didn't think it was important."

"And when you climbed into the crawl space, the house was rigged with dynamite?" Jarrod swallows hard as the thoughts of what could have happened run through his mind. Frank had told them what he found underneath the house, how he cut the wires that would have carried the charge, and how he used that to track the two men responsible. Taking in another deep breath, he leans forward in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to erase the morbid images engulfing his mind.

"Yes," Frank sombers, glancing at Nick who nods for him to continue. "Enough to demolish the doc's house and probably many of the surrounding buildings." He looks over to Jarrod in time to see the horror flash across the lawyer's eyes and the tears form in Gene's, so he quickly adds, "Sorry Jarrod, Gene. I know that is not easy to hear."

"No, it's not," Jarrod says as he stands up and walks over to the window. He has seen many horrible things in his life and yet, it still surprises him the lengths some will go to in order to get what they want no matter who gets hurt. Taking in a deep breath, he leans over and allows his forehead to touch the glass as he works to calm the rage boiling inside him. They had meant to kill his family, his mother, his sister, his brothers, and they almost succeeded.

Without warning he pushes off the window sill and heads straight for the door dividing the office from the cells, grabbing the keys Fred had placed on the edge of his desk along the way.

"Jarrod!" Fred yells as the door slams open against the wall and Jarrod rushes inside gun drawn. He has known the Barkley men for most of their lives and has never seen Jarrod lose his calm. In fact, he has been a little disturbed by Nick's level head. Jumping up quickly, he and everyone else run up behind the incensed lawyer ready to stop him from doing anything he might regret.

The group doesn't even have the chance to find out what a hot-headed Jarrod might do, for as the lawyer raises his gun directly at the man who almost stole his family, the deafening sound of multiple galloping horses coming to a quick stop outside of the jailhouse catches their attention. As the group pauses and Fred makes his way to the window the bellow of a deep, guttural voice echoes through the small room.

"JARROD BARKLEY!" the voice yells, causing all the men to look up at the lawyer.

The recognition in Jarrod's eyes as to who the voice belongs is clear for all to see as is the fear that fills his blue orbs.

"GET DOWN!" he yells, desperate for everyone to take cover as simultaneously the deafening sounds of gunfire erupts within the room.


	63. Chapter 63

Pieces of wood rain down upon the huddled group as bullets continue to fly indiscriminately into the examination room. They know they have little time to figure out how to escape before either the wooden table is torn apart or the culprits decide to enter the doctor's office. With the cramped space leaving little room for them to shift their positions, their eyes flash nervously across the room hoping for some way to get themselves out of the line of fire.

Victoria, who is laying next to her shaking daughter, looks over at the young man she has accepted into her heart and can see his eyes turn toward his new sister. The concern and fear shining brightly beneath the glazed feverish eyes cause her breath to catch and she quickly realizes the feelings she sees are for them and not for the boy himself. As he glances up their eyes meet and a new emotion crosses through his orbs, one of determination and resolve, to see them safely from the room no matter the cost to himself.

"Give me..," Heath starts then pauses as a wave of pain crashes over him. His quick dive off the bed ripped open some of the barely healed lacerations on his back. He can feel a sticky wetness dripping down his skin and knows he is once again bleeding. Fortunately, while the bullet wound burns something fierce, he doesn't think any additional damage was done when he hit the floor.

"Give me your gun," he calls out breathlessly to Alpha.

Alpha looks from Heath to his Uncle Jim. They both know that Heath is the best shot amongst them and it would make sense, given they only have one gun, for Heath to do the shooting. But, they can also see the boy is barely holding on to consciousness.

"No, Heath," Jim intervenes on Alpha's behalf. "You're in no shape to be the one who confronts them. I'll take…"

"NO," Heath yells and then in a defiant voice he continues, "I'm… I'm the best shot... and you...you ain't doing much better than me!"

The two stare at each other, each doused in a fresh sheen of sweat from the exertion of escaping the onslaught on their wounded forms. It's true, Jim doesn't feel so hot but he knows he is definitely doing better than Heath. His eyes travel over the body of the boy he loves like a son until once again their eyes lock, seeing the decidedness staring back at him and the tightened jaw fighting against the pain.

"Heath,..." he starts, only to be interrupted by Victoria.

"No, absolutely not!" Victoria admonishes and then glances over to Heath. "You, young man, are in no condition to do anything and I will simply not allow you to sacrifice yourself. That's not how things work in this family!"

Warmed by Victoria's words, Heath can feel himself turning red with embarrassment. He really is not sure how to feel about the sudden change toward him by his father's family, but he does take comfort in the idea that they do seem to care about him. Still, he knows that he is the best option to get the rest of them out safely.

"Thank ya, ma'am," Heath responds and reaches over and takes her hand, the sounds of gunfire erupting all around them. _How odd_ , he thinks, _it seems natural for me to offer her comfort, a woman that only a week ago I barely spoke to and someone who has every reason to hate me._

"I don't plan... on sacrificing myself," he whispers between breaths and flashes her one of his lopsided grins, "but... we need some kind of distraction... to get at least some of us outta here," he pauses. _Floorboards._ The thought creeps into his mind. Looking over at Jim, he asks, "Jim, ya think... there's a way to get down... into the crawlspace... from inside the house?"

Knowing what the boy is thinking, Jim smiles, "If not, I am sure we can make one."

"We're still... gonna need a distraction," Heath says, glancing down at Alpha's gun. Jim knows he speaks the truth and decides to concede his point.

"Fine," Jim scoffs. "Alpha, give the boy your gun. BUT, boy you are not crawling to that window without some type of cover!" Jim is quick to add as his eyes dart around the room.

"So the plan is to break through the floorboards and escape through the crawl space while Heath provides a distraction from the window?" Audra asks, her voice riddled with concern. "And how will Heath get out?"

"I'll follow you out... once you all get to… to safety," Heath answers, again warmed by the fact that she seems to care about him. He tries to sound convincing but his voice holds no assurance that this will actually work and he can tell his stepmother has already figured that out. He can see her trying to think of a better option before finally realizing he is right, that there is no other way.

"Well, then it sounds as if we are going to need two large distractions," Victoria answers as she squeezes Heath's hand. "One to get Heath to the window and one to get Heath out." Jim nods in agreement. He watches as her eyes shift to the short cabinet positioned against the wall that so far has only been skimmed by the continuous barrage of projectiles. "And, I think I know exactly what we can use."

* * *

"JARROD! GENE!" Nick yells over the continuous clangs of gunfire. They all dove so quickly to the ground as the siege began that from his current position, on the floor in the doorway between the office and the holding area, he is unable to see his brothers. "TALK TO ME!"

"I'm alright," Gene yells back from behind the safety of Fred's desk. He had been standing in the doorway between the office and holding cells when the attack began. As he dropped he scurried quickly behind the wooden desk and then took a few minutes to catch his breath as his battered ribcage screamed at him in agony. _I sure am ready to get back to the city_ , he thinks as he peeks around the corner of the desk to look at Nick.

"I'm fine," Jarrod calls back, as he leans up against the brick wall of the holding area. He silently thanks the years he has spent working on the ranch, honing his reflexes, as it proved to be his saving grace when the unexpected assault bore down upon them. _Unfortunately, we were all not so lucky,_ he thinks as he looks over to the lifeless body of the young suspect being cradled in the arms of the man who tried to kill his family. The unlucky boy had not been fast enough to dodge the small piece of lead headed straight for his head.

The kid, Chuck, looks only to be about nineteen and from the way the other man is hunched over him, begging him to open his eyes, it is clear he meant a lot to the hired killer. A killer, Jarrod reminds himself, who now looks more like a devastated father, with his tear-streaked face pulling at the compassionate soul of the blue-eyed lawyer. The man's overwhelming grief is clearly muddling with his guilt as his fists clench and he lets out a horrid scream.

"HE DIDN'T DESERVE THIS!" he cries unashamedly, the raw pain in his voice eliciting sympathy in the good-hearted men around him. "He didn't deserve this," he whimpers and begins rocking the boy back and forth.

"FRANK? FRED?" Nicks yells again, interrupting the tender moment. "YOU ALRIGHT?"

Jarrod breaks his gaze from the distraught figure and glances across the hall. He realizes for the first time that the two law enforcement officers have crawled into the opposite cell and are huddled down underneath the high window. He watches as Frank fervently tends to Fred's shoulder as a crimson tide pours down his arm. Frank meets Jarrod's eyes and just nods, while the Stockton Sheriff winces as the bandage is tied.

"We're alright," Fred calls back, his voice weak but defiant.

The positions of the cells had left little room for the men to maneuver when the shooting began. Jarrod, who had been in the cell with the two suspects easily dropped down protected by the brick wall. While Fred and Frank who were in the hall between cells were not so lucky. In fact, aside from Jarrod's yell, it was the bullet hitting Fred from the window behind him that alerted them to the threat.

Now as they glance around the holding cells, they are all thankful for the heavy walls that are giving them protection. But, they also realize that from where the bullets are entering the building they must be surrounded, which puts them at a disadvantage for fighting back. The three shoulder-high windows, one in each cell and then one at the end of the long hall, will keep them low to the ground and unable to stand and fight back.

Watching Jarrod and Frank look around the room, Fred waits for them to come to the same conclusion he has and then as they look back to him, he quickly declares, "Don't look at me, I didn't design this place, just inherited it!"

Nick, knowing he needs to make his way either into the holding area or into the office and behind the desk with Gene, starts to scoot himself along the floor.

"Gene, stay put!" he demands as he works his way fully into the holding area. He can almost feel Gene roll his eyes behind him and realizes his command is more about his need for his little brother to be safe. Keeping his head down, he slowly works his way into the cell with Frank and Fred and is shocked to sit up and look into the pale face of the Stockton Sheriff.

Turning his gaze away from Fred, he looks across the hall and into the other cell. His eyes first fall on the fallen form of the young man being smothered (if he still had breath) in the chest of the what now looked like a fragile old man. Tearing his eyes away, he turns toward his older brother and waits for blue to meet hazel before he begins.

"Aright, Jarrod, talk. Who the hell is shooting at us?" Nick asks, his voice relatively calm considering the situation they have found themselves in. "You recognized the voice, didn't you?"

Jarrod runs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh, "I think so," he answers. Before Nick can ask anything else he turns toward Auggie and despite the sympathy he feels for the evident grief, he grabs hold of his shoulder and gives him a rough shake, forcing the man to look up at him. "Who hired you?" he growls.

The broken man takes a minute to focus on his surroundings as he, in the midst of his grief, had forgotten where he was and how he got there. "He didn't deserve this," he says as he gently runs his fingers through the kid's hair. "He'd do anything for me and I killed him," he finishes and turns back to the boy. "I just wanted to save our home."

"BY KILLING MINE!" Jarrod yells and grabs the man by the collar, forcing his attention back to the present. The lawyer is pretty sure he already knows the answer but here in front of witnesses, he wants this confession to be clean and admissible in court. "Now, who hired you? You can't save him and it's their fault he's dead," he points to the dead boy, "the person who hired you and Cunningham."

This gets a rise out of the man, "Damn HIM! This is all his fault!" he yells, "He sabotaged my land, taking everything I had worked for. He didn't care about the families, the children, the people who called it home. He set me up. You have to understand," he begs, "I had no choice. I'm not a killer, I just didn't know what else to do."

"You have a choice now," Jarrod flatly replies.

"It was your friend Buddy Tyrone," Auggie begins, realizing he has nothing left. He has lost everything and the least he can do now is try to redeem himself. "And a man named Olin Graham. He said you killed his brother and he wanted you and your family to pay."

"Graham," Nick questions. He had watched the color fade from Jarrod's face as the name was said. "What's he talking about Jarrod? Who is Olin Graham?"

"He's a killer," Frank butts in. "He's wanted all across the west and as far east as Charleston, South Carolina. If he is the one doing this then we are in serious trouble."


	64. Chapter 64

_Olin Graham_ , Jarrod thinks as he leans back against the brick wall of the cell and lowers his head into his hands. His thoughts swirl as he realizes that in the two months since Heath has joined their family, he has been so consumed with the thought of his father's betrayal he has allowed some of his less pressing cases to fall to the side. One of these cases, an appeal with which he has been waiting to hear back from his investigators concerning new evidence, involves Olin Graham's brother.

"IS THAT WHO THIS IS, JARROD?" Nick bellows, drawing his older brother's gaze from behind his hands. Nick can see the confusion playing out behind Jarrod's blue eyes and knowing his brother as he does, he realizes that he is already trying to figure out why this man would be after him and their family.

"He after a client of yours, Jarrod?" Frank asks as he watches the scene from beside the enraged rancher. He figures that the only way the lawyer would have anything to do with a man like Olin Graham is if he is defending someone who was wronged by the outlaw.

"Something like that," Jarrod all but whispers in response, leaving his voice to be drowned out by the sounds of gunfire. Their blank stares alert him to the fact that they are not able to hear him over the chaos around them. And so, with a deep sigh, he drags his weary body off the wall and begins to make his way closer to the other cell.

Situating himself against the bars, he looks over at the three pairs of eyes demanding an explanation. He knows there is little he can tell them. He has no idea why this man is after him or why he would go to all this trouble to not only kill Jarrod but also his family. Plus, Olin does not seem like the type of man to hide behind others and he definitely is not someone who minds getting his hands dirty.

Even with Auggie's positive identification of Olin and Buddy as the men who hired him to take down the Barkley family, it just doesn't make any sense! Why would a man try to kill the one person who believes his brother and is trying to help him get out of jail?

Lightly tapping his head against the metal bars, he looks over at the others who are waiting for him to explain. Turning away, he mentally works through the case and tries desperately to connect some dots that would have led to this attempted extermination of his family. But, there are no dots to connect. With a loud sigh, he gives the only answer he can.

"His brother, Alasdair Graham, he is my client," Jarrod starts and doesn't miss the look of disgust plastered on Nick's face. "Don't give me that look," he confronts the rancher, "Alasdair is a good man, nothing at all like his brother. He is a self-made man who has used his wealth to help those less fortunate."

"They don't get along?" Frank asks and gestures to the outside as the group looks up toward the windows and wonders when the barrage will stop. _They sure have this shooting down to an art_ , he comments off-handedly to himself, _It's almost as if they ain't reloading._

"They were close once but then they decided to take different paths. Alasdair did say his brother was protective of him, but still I've been trying to help his brother so none of this makes any sense," the lawyer answers as he continues to try and figure out what might have led to the events of the last week.

"So what's the case?" Nick snarls, not ready to concede that this Alasdair is indeed a good man.

"It's an appeal case," Jarrod frowns. "He was originally convicted, solely on circumstantial evidence, of causing a mine collapse that led to the death of twenty-five men."

"Wait a second, is this about Midas?" Nick yells interrupting his brother. "You're defending that guy! TWENTY-FIVE good men died in that mine collapse and you're defending the guy who caused it?"

"He didn't cause it," Jarrod yells back, the two of them rising to their knees, "and I aim to prove it. Dutton and his lawyers had Alasdair tried and convicted before he had a chance to defend himself and…"

"ENOUGH!" Frank yells at the two brothers. "You can hash this out later, right now we got bigger problems, like trying to find a way out of this and getting Fred over to the doc's place!"

At the mention of Fred's name, the two brother's sink back down to rest on their heels as they take in the pale form of their friend. His closed eyes send a chill through them as they both know the man to be tough as nails.

As if reading their minds, his eyes slowly open and he gives them both a small smile as he weakly jokes, "Don't look at me like that, I ain't dead yet."

"And you're not going to be anytime soon," Nick states with firm conviction. The statement is followed by a loud, HUMPH as if daring fate to try to be different than what the rancher has decreed.

"Well, we got plenty of guns and ammo," Frank says as he starts to think about a plan. "The main problem is getting out of this room and into a place we can make a stand. The front office area is probably best. The windows out there aren't so evenly placed and they ain't at head level. The main problem is getting out there. Damn, if they don't need to reload. I just can't figure how they keep shooting!"

"Let me try to get his attention," Jarrod suggests, to which Nick immediately starts to rebuke. Interrupting any rebuttal his brother might have, Jarrod continues, "just long enough for us to move into position."

"Fine, but stay low and don't take any chances," Nick gruffs out as the two brother's lock eyes.

Slowly moving toward the window near Auggie, Jarrod positions himself flat against the wall making sure to remain low enough so that he is out of the line of fire. Taking in a deep breath, he steadies himself as he goes to call out to the man causing so much destruction, only as he opens his mouth the shooting abruptly stops. Confused, he glances over at the others who can only shrug at the shocking turn of events. Deciding to make their move out to the front office where the guns are located and the conditions better suited for a shootout, the four make their way just as a voice calls out.

"JARROD BARKLEY," the now distinct voice of Olin Graham calls out. "I got a proposition for you."

Stopping abruptly at the sound of his name, Jarrod looks toward the others who have wasted no time in helping Gene move the desk and tables in the office into a better position to provide cover. The others only stop for a moment as Frank motions toward the lawyer to keep the man talking while they do their best to fortify the room.

The counselor walks over and leans on the wall near the closest window to where he believes Olin to be. Thinking about how to buy them time, he watches as the marshall and Nick move toward the gun cabinet and begin removing the weapons and ammo. He smiles with pride as Gene eases Fred down and begins checking over the bandage covering the lightly bleeding wound in his shoulder. _It's time for Gene to come clean about his schooling,_ he thinks right before he calls out to the outlaw.

"What's this about Olin?" the lawyer responds as he takes two rifles from Frank and lays them on the floor near the window.

"It's about what the good Lord calls an 'eye for an eye'," the outlaw answers. "You took my brother from me and now I aim to take yours."

"You're mistaken," Jarrod pauses in his work as he answers. "I'm trying to help your brother gain his freedom. I believe he is innocent!"

"You can't help the dead, lawyer man," Olin snarls and then angrily continues, "YOU PROMISED HIM YOU'D HELP HIM AND THEN YOU LEFT HIM TO ROT IN THAT PRISON. I TOLD HIM I'D BREAK HIM OUT BUT HE DIDN'T WANT MY HELP, SAID YOU WOULD FIND A WAY. ONLY YOU DIDN'T AND NOW HE IS DEAD!"

Ashamed Jarrod bows his head and closes his eyes for a minute. If what Olin said was true, he had let Alasdair down. He had promised him that he would find a way to free him but he hadn't checked back in the last couple of months.

"You didn't even know he was dead, did you?" the goon barks out.

"No and I'm sorry," Jarrod states sincerely taking in a deep breath. "Alasdair was a good man and he deserved better but your anger is misplaced. I still aim to prove he was innocent."

"Don't need your help," Olin yells, "I already know who done it and I plan to head there next. Now about my proposition," he pauses.

"I'll come out peacefully," Jarrod says as he watches both his brothers shake their heads and start toward him. Waving them off, he continues, "If you'll let my brothers go."

"No can do, lawyer man," the man laughs, mocking Jarrod. "However, while there ain't much left of that doctor's house, if you and your brothers come out peaceful like, I figure I can order my men to stop shooting up that place."

"WHAT!" Nick yells as he jumps up and starts for the door just as Frank comes up from behind and tackles him. Forgetting who has him pinned to the ground, Nick bucks and tries to plunge his elbow into the ribs of his captor. The move is an old story for the seasoned lawmen and he easily contains his prisoner.

"Stay calm," Frank firmly commands. "Jim and Heath are over there and they know what they are doing. Besides, a man like Olin doesn't keep his word and we can't help them if we are dead."

Holding the rancher down he waits for a nod of agreement before releasing the larger man. Nick growls to himself as he makes his way over to the window by Jarrod.

"Heath and Jim are hurt," Gene says, his voice riddled with worry. "How are they going to be able to help?"

"Those two have more grit between the two of them than a dozen men," Franks stats with conviction. "They'll find a way."

The lawman takes one more look around the room and approves of the quick changes they made to give them a fighting chance against the horde of ruffians surrounding the jail. Glancing quickly over to Fred, he sees the determination in the officer as he sits propped up by a window, gun in hand. Gene has made his way to the other side of the window across from Fred while Nick and Jarrod get in position on the opposite side window.

"Now boys," Frank begins as he settles himself next to the window near the front door. "How about we shut these roughnecks up!"

And without another word, the group commences firing on the unsuspecting mob.

* * *

"Alpha," Jim places his hand on the shoulder of his nephew. His worried eyes close for a moment knowing he has no choice but to allow this boy to make an attempt to reach the cabinet holding what they are all hoping will lead to their escape. "You go quick, you stay low, and you grab the stuff and head back. You hear?"

Alpha swallows hard as he unconsciously shakes when his nerves get the better of him. He knows this is a good plan and that in this part he is the only one that is well enough to take the lead, but that doesn't help to settle his fears as he thinks about what could happen. _I'm putting myself in the line of fire and there ain't no guarantee I won't get hit._ With that thought, he looks over at Heath, who seems to be resting with his head on his arm. _He never hesitates and how many times has he been hurt helping others, myself included. I don't know how he does it._

As if he heard the words, Heath glances up at Alpha and gives him a small smile. "You got this, Alpha," he whispers as Alpha nods in agreement.

 _Can't let the boy down, nor Miss Audra,_ Alpha thinks and smiles when he looks over to the blonde-haired beauty beside him. She smiles back and this helps his resolve as he gets into position and waits for the moment to go. He's not really sure what he is waiting for, there hasn't been a stop in the continuous flow of bullets making their way around the doctor's office since the shooting began. Yet, for some reason, he waits as if the perfect time will announce itself and he best be ready. Just as he starts to make his move, he feels Audra shift and calls out to all of them.

"We can use the bone saw!" she yells out in excitement and points to the metal saw on the floor.

Victoria glances over to where Audra is pointing and smiles as the second half of their escape plan begins to fall into place.

"It'll cut through bone," Jim says and both he and Heath cringe at the thought, a sight not missed by Victoria. "It'll cut through wood."

"I'll grab it," Audra volunteers and quickly, but carefully in the cramped space, maneuvers herself so that she can reach out and grab the saw that has conveniently fallen onto the floor from the side table.

Staying low she hands the saw to Jim who is now hunched down on his knees, mindful not to allow his body to peak out above the fallen table. With the saw in hand, he starts the task of cutting through the floorboards so that they have a space large enough for each of them to quickly fit through.

Alpha watches as his uncle begins sawing away at the floor and knows the time has come for him to make his move. Taking in a deep breath, he quickly slithers along the floor, until he reaches the side table. Throwing open the doors, he is caught off guard as the door erupts into splinters as bullets shatter its once solid form. Quickly, throwing his arms around his head, he feels a few pieces of wood pierces his skin. Not wanting to waste any time, he blindly reaches into the cabinet and begins to pull bottles that feel empty beside him and rolls them into Audra and Victoria's waiting hands. With the empty bottles secured, he takes in a deep breath as he tries to steady his nerves and fights against his body's natural desire to flee. Cementing his determination, he looks up for the one ingredient necessary to enact their plan and reaches for the bottle just as a bullet grazes his back. Dropping back, he bites down hard on his lip as the searing pain of the deep graze and the warm flow of what he knows to be blood trickles down his skin. Wanting nothing more than to be done with this task at hand, he fights against the pain and tightens his grip around the last bottle.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins allows him to move faster than he thinks possible with his body so close to the floor as he works his way back to the security of the fallen table. Dropping his head to the ground, he lets out the breath he was holding and allows his nerves to rock his body as he realizes how close he came to dying. Feeling hands on his back, pulling the neck of his shirt to expose the wound, brings him back to the present as he looks over to Victoria who is tending his wound.

"I'm alright," he whispers and tries to smile, "it's just a scratch. It'll keep."

Victoria smiles back and replaces the shirt onto the young man's back. "It doesn't look too bad," she agrees, "but as soon as we are out of here it will need to be cleaned and dressed."

"Deal, " he smiles. "Now, what are you planning to do with this here ether?"


	65. Chapter 65

As the final board drops down into the newly carved hole in the floor, Audra looks up towards her mother knowing that as their plan unfolds the group will shortly be parting ways. She worries for her new brother, who as they prepare, has kept his head resting on his folded arms. It is obvious that he is in tremendous pain and she can see the red tinge seeping through the bandages along his back.

Seeing the distress in her daughter's eyes, Victoria reaches over and gently squeezes her hand before turning back toward her new son. She notices the crease in his forehead indicating his discomfort and wishes there was some other moment she, Audra, and Alpha will be descending into the space underneath the house while Jim and Heath stay back and create a distraction so that they can hopefully get away.

Taking in a deep breath, she reaches over and places a hand on Heath's leg, giving it a small shake.

"Heath?" she calls out and waits for him to slowly open his eyes. "It's time."

"Alright," he all but whispers back as he shifts slightly to his left so that he can look at the others all huddled together. "Jim," he groans as the pain of moving burns through his damaged form, "... can ya help me to undo this bandage on my arm?"

He looks down at the white wrapping holding his right arm and shoulder in place and knows that removing it is going to bring on a new world of pain. But, when it comes to shooting he is more accurate with his right hand and in their current situation, he can't afford to miss. Looking over to his step-mother and sister, he tries to give them a reassuring smile but instead grimaces as Jim cuts away the support on his injured shoulder.

"Heath," Victoria starts, the concern clear in her voice.

"I'm alright," Heath breathlessly responds, "it'll be alright." He looks over to Alpha and reaches out his right hand, motioning for the gun.

Alpha hesitates for a moment as he looks at his friend. He can tell the boy is struggling just to hold out his hand and he can't imagine how he plans to hold the weight of the gun. But with no other choice, he slides the gun over and watches as Heath's hand falls to his thigh as it proves to be too much.

"Heath?" he asks as he watches the blonde raises the gun and checks to make sure it is fully loaded. Without waiting he slides his gun belt over to his uncle who counts the extra rounds in the bullet loops. He silently curses himself for not thinking to make sure to put extra shells in the belt this morning.

"We only got about twenty shots, Heath. So they're all gonna need to count," Jim says, a grim look darkening his face.

"Won't be the first time," Heath mumbles. He pulls himself up off the floor to be sitting hunched down on his heels.

The comment is not missed by Victoria, who watches as the young blonde gingerly places his left hand on the ground to steady himself as a wave of dizziness descends upon him. His gaunt features and clenched jaw are the only signs of weakness as it is clear to her that his resolve has gifted him with a new wave of adrenaline.

"Heath," Victoria starts again and then stops as their eyes meet and she is instantly thrown into the past as memories of a young Tom Barkley assault her.

"Yes, ma'am," he replies and watches as she takes his hand, tears pooling in her eyes. _Tears for me?_ He wonders as he tightens his grip on her hand.

"Please be careful, we have much to talk about," she continues, allowing a single tear to escape down her cheek.

Unsure of how to answer he simply nods his response and gives her a slight smile. He is under no illusion about what their chances might be when it comes to escaping once the firefight begins. His main concern is to get the others to safety and once that is accomplished he figures he and Jim will have to figure out the rest.

Unable to contain herself, Audra leans over and gives Heath a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, big brother," she cries. "Promise me you'll be ok."

Feeling the rise of his cursed blush, Heath gives her his best smile as he replies, "You don't know how much that means to me, Sis. I promise to do my best."

Knowing that this is the best he can do, she smiles back and then brushes away the tears she was not able to stop from falling.

"It's time," Jim interrupts. He and Alpha had watched the touching scene but the barrage of gunfire is not letting up and it is only a matter of time before someone gets hurt. They need to get the two ladies to safety. "Audra and Victoria once you are underneath, Alpha is going to help me move this table closer to the window before he joins you. Once I throw one of your bottle concoctions, I want you all to move and move fast. Got it?"

Both women nod their heads, as Victoria carefully passes the four partially-filled bottles over to Jim, who delicately places them beside him. She then hands him the stripes of cloth Audra tore from her underskirt and the matches Alpha had in his pocket.

"These were a great idea, Victoria," Jim compliments her as he stuffs the cloth into the top of the bottles so that the material can begin to soak up the ether. "They sure won't be expecting this."

"Let's hope," Victoria smiles before her features turn grim. "Be careful," she says, "As soon as we are clear we will send help."

"We'll be waiting for it," Jim replies as he watches the two women climb into the hole and disappear under the floor. Turning to his nephew, he waves him closer and motions for him to help push the other side of the exam table forward. Without needing to be told, Heath picks up the four bottles and staying hidden behind the exam table moves with the other two men.

Once the table is in place underneath the window, Heath sets the bottles down beside him and once again checks the colt in his hands.

"Ye ain't gotta stay, Jim," Heath tries once again to get the other man to leave. "I can handle this on my own."

"I ain't going nowhere and you know better than to ask! Besides, with that shoulder, these bottles are more likely to set the place on fire. Now stop your pestering and let's get started!" Jim admonishes and then turns toward Alpha.

"Go now," he says as he cups the back of the boy's neck trying to ease the fear he sees in his nephew's eyes. "You get them to safety. You get yourself to safety and you bring help. Got it."

Alpha nods but remains frozen in his spot, not wanting to leave his uncle and friend. "I won't be long," he chokes out as he dives toward the hole and quickly slips out of sight.

Picking up the box of matches, Jim looks over at Heath and sees the fire burning within the boy's eyes. He knows that look, it's a flame that erases any pain or fear and narrows his focus to the task at hand.

"Let's get this party started," he yells as he lights the first wick and tosses the cocktail through the window and into the crowd of ruffians outside.

* * *

Ducking back down beside the window he has been plastered beside for the last thirty minutes, Jarrod takes solace in the fact that while their surprise attack on the gang outside has not ended their siege it has made a dent in the number of roughnecks outside. As he reloads his gun, he takes pride in his brothers as they each have upheld their end and have kept the gang at bay. Unfortunately, the lawyer is beginning to realize that the only way to put an end to the carnage will be to shoot the head off the snake. Olin Graham has to go down and Jarrod is determined to be the one to do it.

Looking over to Nick who has just fallen back against the wall and is also reloading his weapon, he admires the tenacity his brother possesses. He is a man determined and nothing is going to stop him from achieving his goal. A goal that is equally shared between all the men in the cramped office of the town's lawman, to get to the doctor's office and make sure the others are safe.

Waving a quick hand to get Nick's attention, Jarrod waits for the rancher to meet his eyes before trying to outline a new plan of attack.

"We need to get to Olin," he yells over the sound of bullets flying past them. "It's the only way to end this."

Nick nods and then glances around the room as he tries to think of how best to achieve this goal. The surprise retaliation has made a significant dent in the hoard outside. In fact, as soon as they began shooting back, the gang, which had been oddly out in the open, quickly dove behind whatever cover they could find. A few of the less fortunate ruffians found a quick end to their search for protection as a bullet from inside the sheriff's office found its mark and felled them where they stood.

Since then, the group of lawmen, lawyer, rancher, and the student has slowly weeded through the masses but like most vermin for everyone they knock off another takes their place. With this in mind, Nick can't help but agree with Jarrod's assessment, they need to get to Olin. Without their leader, some may stick around but the rest will probably take off as loyalty among the morally compromised is often fickle.

"And how do you suppose we do that, Big Brother?" Nick yells back, still searching around the room for something to help them. As he scans the room, his eyes fall on Fred whose gun has fallen to the side as the man has sunk into unconsciousness. Across from him is Gene, who is still firing shots out the window, making both of his big brother's proud.

"What are you boys thinking?" Frank calls out, noticing that the two Barkleys have stopped shooting and seem to be plotting something. He has also been trying to figure a way to turn the tables on the group outside. Even with the well-stocked armory inside Fred's office, he knows the group can't go on like this indefinitely. They need to turn the tide and they need to do it soon!

Jarrod runs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh, the best way to get Olin's attention was for the man's target to confront him.

"I need to get Olin's attention and one of you need to take him out," Jarrod responds to Frank but keeps his eyes on Nick who is already disagreeing with him.

"NO," Nick yells back. "There ain't no way I'm letting you go out there. We'll find another way!"

"What other way?" Jarrod pleads. He is responsible for what has befallen them and he has to see his family to safety. "There is no other way, Nick."

"Yes, there is," a strange voice interrupts them as the figure of Auggie crawls through the doorway connecting the holding area and the office. Just as quickly as his voice calls out, all four remaining guns point in his direction as he lays up against the wall. He raises his hands to chest level so the men can see he is unarmed, his reddened eyes glaring with anger as he makes his way into the room. It quickly dawns on the group they had left the cells open.

"I'll go," he says, his voice devoid of emotion.

"And why would we trust you," Nick asks, his distrust clear.

"That boy in there," he chokes out, "he didn't deserve this. It was my own selfishness that got him killed. Me and that man out there. There ain't nothing I can do to get out of this hole I'm in but I can help to make sure the man who killed my boy pays with his life."

He turns to Jarrod. "I'm dead already," he says. "Right, lawyer? After what I did, I'll be swinging by a rope in a month. Let me do something good, for the boy, in his name."

The four men exchange glances and both Jarrod and Frank nod toward Auggie. The two men realize that even if he is lying, going out there is basically signing his death certificate and it will give them the reprieve they need to hone in on Olin.

As they weigh their options a voice from outside draws their attention back to the problem at hand.

"You giving up, Lawyer?" Olin yells, the stop in return fire catching his attention.

Staying silent, the four men turn toward Auggie who stands up and heads toward the window.

"You done killed them all," he yells as he climbs through the window keeping his hands raised to let the men outside know he poses no threat to them. His eyes quickly glance back toward the fiery hazel eyes looking back at him and to the gun pointed at his back.

"Whoopee, serves the bastards right!" Olin shouts and slowly makes his way out from behind his cover. He hasn't gotten this far by being stupid and he knows better than to fully trust the word of Augustus Hatch. He waves to two of his men to head toward the office to make sure they are all dead.

Seeing the men heading his way, Auggie quickly calls out trying to slow them. "The marshall's body is blocking the door, you best come to the window."

Turning toward the window the two men start walking that way just as Olin steps out into the open. Seeing the opportunity, Auggie looks back down at Jarrod and gives a slight smile as a signal that the time is now. Jarrod quickly moves to a squat position, ready to take aim. Nick following his brother's movements nods letting Jarrod know he is ready to provide cover.

Just as the two rise and fire, the sound of a small explosion rattles the group followed by the blood-curdling screams of dying men. Jarrod's bullet is true and just as Olin turns toward the commotion, an expertly placed bullet shatters his chest.


	66. Chapter 66

Staring down at the last cocktail bottle he is holding in his hand, he wonders how it might best serve them in their escape. The first bottle he had thrown had the desired effect, it caused chaos among the gang that had been bombarding the house with a barrage of bullets. Three men caught on fire, their screams echoing throughout the streets and Heath had been able to fell them and three additional men with carefully placed bullets. The second and third bottle he threw were not quite as effective as the first but it did send the ruffians scattering and again left them open to Heath's process of elimination.

Now as he stares down at the one remaining bottle, he wonders if it will be enough to allow them to slide through the opening and into the crawlspace before one of the many projectiles flying around the room finds them. He had hoped that they would be able to stand their ground long enough for help to return and he feels confident that Victoria, Audra, and Alpha have been able to get to safety. What is currently worrying him is that Heath is quickly tiring and upon the last count, the boy only has about six shots left before their ammo is extinguished and they are left completely unarmed.

Glancing down at the heavily breathing boy, Jim can see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He can see the left hand curled into a white-knuckled fist as if it's tightness will ease the pain he knows the boy is feeling on his right side. He always marvels at the ability of this boy to find that rare inner strength he needs to be able to push through his injuries when needed. Even so, the two slits trying to look out the window gives way to the truth, the kid is exhausted and feverish and needs to be in a bed resting. _Come on, Jim, think, how can I get us out of this!_

As if reading his inner thoughts, Heath shifts slightly onto his back and looks up to meet Jim's eyes. He has come to the end of his endurance and now all he can hope for is that somehow he can make sure Jim gets to safety. He knows he hasn't really been privy to much of what has happened in the last couple of days but he can't seem to piece together where this gang came from or how they are tied to that murderous Tyrone. All he knows is that the Barkley women should now be safe with Alpha and somehow he needs to make sure Jim gets back to his kids.

He knows the lawman is going to try to get them both out but truth be told he seriously doubts he will be able to do more than raise this gun one last time and fire. His whole body feels heavy as if the pain has become so great it is weighing him down like a lead brick. There is no chance he is moving without help and with only a few shots left they can't waste the time it would take for Jim to help him. No, he is at peace and if there is only one final thing he can do, it will be to make sure his friend's kids grow up with their father.

"Jim," he whispers, his voice seems foreign and far away.

"I know, Heath," Jim interrupts. He knows this boy well and can see the wheels turning in those sky blue eyes. "I ain't letting you sacrifice yourself, so just get that out of your head!"

Heath slumps down further against the wall. "I'm done in," he pauses to catch his breath. He really doesn't feel like talking but this needs to be said, he needs Jim to leave him. "I ain't gonna be able to go nowhere. You get out, you get help. I'll be here waiting." He drones out.

Jim looks around at the broken room. Nothing has been untouched by the assault, even the table they have been hiding behind looks to be about on its last leg. A few more shots and it's bound to break and expose them.

"Listen, boy," his voice reeks of authoritarian strength, the kind he uses with his own kids. "We go together or we don't go at all, it's not up for discussion!"

He keeps his eyes toward the window. He knows better than to look down at the boy when he has his mind set on something. His chin will be protruding with pure stubbornness and his eyes will be begging for you to understand. _It's the eyes that get you, just don't look at his eyes,_ he thinks as he glances down and can see the pain and worry looking back at him. _Damn, he's hard to say no to_.

"Jim, think of your kids," he breathlessly says. "You gotta get back to them and ya already had one close call. I won't let them lose you cuz of me."

Well, that riled the older man's feathers. "My children," he yells back in response. "Don't you think I am thinking of my children!" He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself. "Boy, don't you know I think of you as one of my children. I couldn't love you any less than I love them and I would never leave my child behind!"

The shocked look on Heath's face almost makes Jim laugh but instead, he smiles down at the stunned boy and gently cups his face. "Now, we leave here together or we both stay, okay?" Seeing the small nod and the slight grin, he knows the boy must be blushing and he just can't see it through his feverish rosy cheeks.

Using whatever strength he can muster from deep within, Heath, with help from Jim, sits up a little straighter and raises the gun. "You throw... I shoot... then you can drag my sorry ass through that hole," Heath sasses bringing some levity to the situation.

Jim can't help but laugh but it is quickly replaced with a grimace as he places his hand on the boy's uninjured shoulder, feeling the rise in the kid's temperature and knowing they need to get him back under the doctor's care and soon.

"Ready?" he asks and Heath nods. He raises his right arm and aims the bottle toward the last place he had seen a group of outlaws gathering. Bringing his arm back he lets the missile fly and then reaches down to support Heath as the kid rises from his crouch and begins firing into the men. As the last round in the gun fires, Heath uses the very last of his strength to move toward the hole in the floor. Feeling Jim's arms around him, he stifles a cry as he feels the weight of the man's arms on his back.

Pushing the blonde forward he helps the boy dive through the hole and wastes no time crawling in after him. As he gets under the house, he can see Heath doing his best to move forward and he once again wraps his arms around him, holding him up as they crawl toward the alley. The sounds of gunfire erupting in front of the house make the two men pause.

"Come on, son," Jim whispers in Heath's ear. The boy is leaning heavily on him and he can feel the fire raging within the boy's body. "While they're distracted let's get out of here."

He tightens his hold and hears the small groan as his arm brushes against the now bloody lacerations on the boy's back. Helping him to inch forward, he gently lays the boy on his left side once they reach the edge of the house. Taking the chance he looks out from underneath the foundation and can't keep the smile that spreads across his face.

"Boy Howdy, am I glad to see you," Jim says, his relief obvious. Ducking back under the house he grabs hold of Heath and, as carefully as he can, he pulls the semi-conscious boy into his arms. Running his fingers through the dirty, sweaty, blonde locks, he whispers in the kid's ear, "Everything is going to be alright, you rest now, ya hear."

* * *

Jarrod watches as Olin's body crumbles to the ground. The men standing closest to him, who had turned toward the loud noise from up the street, waste no time in diving behind the barrels that they were using for cover. The group inside the sheriff's office prepare themselves for another round of shooting but are pleasantly surprised as the group outside seems unsure of how to proceed. Just as Jarrod had predicted this was Olin's battle and with him dead and no true leader ready to take the rein the group seems lost.

Peeking out the window he can see the ripple effect of their leader's death and some men all-out abandon the others, while some stay hunkered down and ready to fight. With the odds slowly turning in their favor, Jarrod and Nick feel confident that they will be able to take the remaining few if those still taking cover decide to open fire.

"Looks like they really aren't sure what they want to do," Nick states to the group as he shifts his position slightly. His muscles are beginning to cramp from being crouched beside the window for so long. "Six of them ran off, about six look to be dead, and then we got about six remaining behind their cover."

Frank crawls over to stand beside Jarrod, "The one on my side took off. Well, those that weren't dead anyway. Lucky for us, Olin was the one holding the group together. What do you think that noise was? You think that came from the doc's house? Couldn't have happened at a better time."

Both brothers turn toward Frank as they realize that more than likely the explosion they heard followed by the screams did indeed come from the direction of the doctor's house. Swallowing hard, he pushes down the lump that just crept into his throat, Jarrod tries to settle the worry pulsing through him. "We need to get out of here and over to Howard's."

His frustration and concern are etched in his features and shared by all in the room. Nick takes another look outside and sees the last remaining men settling in and not seeming to make a decision on what they plan to do, so he decides to make it for them. Aiming true, he levels his gun at the one scoundrel letting his backside be exposed, and just as he is about to pull the trigger he sees Alpha, Larry, the owner of the general store, and a small petite lady carrying a shotgun coming around the corner.

"MOTHER," Nick yells in shock as the group quickly takes cover and begin to fire on the rest of Olin's men.

Jarrod laughs, never surprised by what that regal lady is capable of, and turns his weapon to enters the fray as he hears Frank laughing behind him. With the added guns coming in from another direction the rest of the scum doesn't stand a chance and within a few minutes, the last of them are dead.

Running toward the sheriff's office, Victoria meets Jarrod, Nick, and Frank outside, her eyes doing a quick scan looking for her remaining son. Seeing the worry in her eyes and wanting nothing more than to have physical proof she is alright, Jarrod wraps his arms around her before saying, "Gene's fine. He's inside with Fred who was wounded."

She sways slightly as the overwhelming relief she feels almost brings her to her knees. In fact, if not for Jarrod's hold on her she might have fallen.

"Mother," Nick asks seeing her falter, "Are you alright? Where is Audra?"

"Yes, I'm fine but your brother needs you. He's held up in the doctor's office. He and Jim gave us cover to escape. Audra is at the general store. She's fine," she answers his questions, "but I'm not sure how much longer Jim and Heath can hold out. You have to hurry!" She waves them away.

The three men quickly turn and begin to run up the street followed by Alpha. Larry heads toward Victoria and the two run inside to find Gene trying to get Fred to take small sips of water. Knowing the doctor's house is nearly destroyed the trio decide to move the Sheriff to a room in the hotel so that he can rest in a proper bed.

The others run toward the doctor's office only slowly as they are about to turn the corner so that they may remain hidden. The streets are eerily quiet but that's not unusual when a shootout occurs. Most people hide away and try to avoid trouble. _Probably for the best_ , Frank thinks having witnessed a few times an innocent bystander has been killed by a stray bullet.

Peeking around the wall of the bank building, the four watch as a bottle flies through the front window of the doc's house and the men shooting quickly run back. As the bottle hits the ground it explodes and sends fire off to the side. This is quickly followed by six shots, four of which claim the lives of running men.

"Impressive shooting," Nick mumbles, more to himself than anything.

"That's Heath and the bottles were your mother's idea," Alpha tells them, and they all look back at him surprised. "They're filled with ether. We needed a way out."

"No more shots," Frank observes. "Means they're out."

"And it looks like the bad guys realize that as well," Nick responds looking back toward the house holding his new little brother. He turns back toward the others, and says," only about seven of them and we have the element of surprise, shall we take them?" He grins.

Running out to be in a better position as the gang makes their way toward the doctor's house, the four men open fire, first giving off a warning shot, and then returning their fire as the obviously not so bright men swing around forgetting they are now out in the open and try unsuccessfully to defeat this new foe.

As the last of the gang falls to the ground, the victors quickly run out from behind their cover and make their way over to the shot up home. As they witness the damage done to the once beautiful home, the men all say a silent thank you to those above for keeping their friends and family safe. As Jarrod passes the alley between Howard's and the general store he catches movement coming out from underneath the foundation. Stopping, he signals for the others and then runs back to help as he realizes it is Jim crawling out from underneath the house and into the alley.

"Boy Howdy, am I glad to see you," Jim says, his relief obvious. Ducking back under the house he grabs hold of Heath and, as carefully as he can, he pulls the semi-conscious boy into his arms. Running his fingers through the dirty, sweaty, blonde locks, he whispers in the kid's ear, "Everything is going to be alright, you rest now, ya hear."

"Well, ain't you two a sight for sore eyes!" Frank says and the four gather around the injured men. He can see from the creases in Jim's forehead that the man is garnishing a nice size headache. Heath's eyes are closed and his breaths are shallow. "Let's get you two off the streets and patched up again."

"We can take them over to the hotel since Howard's house is indisposed at the moment," Jarrod offers as he shakes his head at the damage that has been done to the once pristine house.

"Indisposed? That's putting it mildly," Fanks grimaces as he moves aside so that Nick can move in front of Heath. _Nick sure has become his brother's keeper,_ he smiles to himself, happy that Heath has found his family.

"Hey kid," Nick reaches down and places a hand on Heath's left arm. The heat he feels coming off the boy raises all sorts of alarms in the rancher and he knows they need to get him cooled off immediately. Not getting a response he continues, "Heath, I'm going to take you over to the hotel so the doc can fix you up, alright little brother."

He sees Heath nod but offers no form of a complaint as he lifts him into his arms. The lack of reaction from the independent, prideful blonde causes Nick even more concern as he starts to quickly walk out of the alley only stopping beside Jarrod for a second.

"Find Doc Merar," he urgently tells to Jarrod. "He's too hot."

Dreading having to be the one to tell Howard about his house, Jarrod starts to give a snarky response only to have his retort come out as only a mumble when he reaches over and feels his youngest brother's forehead. Filled with the same concern, he simply responds, "Get him to Mother, she'll know what to do."

Nick hurries off as Frank and Alpha help Jim to stand, even though he tries to push them away proclaiming he is fine, causing his longtime friend to laugh. Instead, Frank only holds on tighter as the three start to make their way out from between the buildings.

"We got him, Jarrod. Go find the doc," the lawmen says with a nod to the lawyer who heeds his advice and leaves the three men behind.

As he runs out, he has his head down trying desperately to remember where Howard said he had to go today. He doesn't get far before a blood-curdling scream and an angry voice stops him dead in his tracks.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY HOUSE!" Dr. Merar yells as he holds onto his sobbing wife.


	67. Chapter 67

Busting through the front door of the hotel, Nick hurries across the lobby towards the settee in the far corner. The boy is light, too light as far as he is concerned, but still carrying him across town is beginning to impact the larger man and he needs a minute to rest before finishing his journey and getting the boy upstairs. Easing himself down onto one knee, he places his burden on the soft cushion and slides one arm out from underneath the long legs. Grabbing a throw pillow from the other end, he uses it to replace his other arm from under the blond's head.

Leaning back on his heels, he looks down at the unconscious boy who seems to be struggling against the fire raging inside of him. He watches as the boy shivers and releases a small moan as he tries to move off his injured back but fails as his strength is completely depleted. The rancher quickly reaches over and swiftly helps to position his brother more on his left side. He is careful to avoid the swollen right shoulder, as the painfully pulled skin donned in molten bruises is tender to even the slightest touch. A truth he, unfortunately, discovered on his way over to the hotel.

Looking down at the desperately ill boy, Nick runs a hand through his hair and for a moment he smiles when he thinks of how embarrassed the poor kid would be hanging out in only sleeping pants in the middle of town. He thinks back to the first family meeting that Heath was included in after all this began and how the kid wouldn't even budge from his room without getting dressed even though he had been shot the day before. _Stubborn cuss!_ Nick thinks but just as quickly the heavy burden of guilt weighs over him as he thinks about the fact that without him, and his impulsive nature, his baby brother would be in a much better place to deal with his current list of injuries. Doctor Merar had gently but unequivocally, pointed out to all of them when he examined Heath after their rescue that it was the repeated injury to the bullet wound that was making the boy so sick.

" _Dammit, Nick Barkley! You FOOL!"_ he berates himself.

Placing his hand on the top of Heath's head he leans down and whispers, "When this over, we are going to the lodge and getting to know each other. You got a family now, Heath. And I'm glad you're my brother! You're never gonna be alone again."

Getting no response, Nick lets out a deep sigh and gives a supporting squeeze to the back of Heath's neck before preparing to lift the blond once again.

Heading back to the counter, Alfred, who had been helping another customer, notices the unconscious BLEEDING man dressed ONLY in sleeping pants, laid out across his settee. With disgust boiling to the surface, he recognizes the invalid and storms over to the man kneeling down in front of the couch. Tapping on the broad shoulder, he clears his throat loudly to get the man's attention.

"Does this look like…," he starts to declare until the hazel eyes of Nick Barkley meet his own. "Mr. Barkley…," he stutters, absently rubbing his still sore nose. He takes many steps back, hoping to be out of the reach of the man's fist.

Trying to recover himself, he attempts to stand tall before the glaring man, whose ire is boiling to the point of explosion. In his best 'helpful' voice, he quickly asks, "Surely, the doctor's office would be a more appropriate place for the young man."

Nick's first instinct is to strangle the sniveling weasel but with a thought to his brother and in the essence of time he stands to full height and scowls at the little man. "NOW WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT, HMMM," he berates the man, "MAYBE BECAUSE THE DOC'S HOUSE IS SHOT TO HELL!"

He takes a step forward and almost laughs as Alfred shrinks before him. Nick knows there is no way that the man didn't hear the shooting from here. In fact, he is sure the whole town is aware of what has happened. And being the nosy, gossipy, busybody the clerk is, Nick is sure the man has already been told the full account of what transpired down to the last detail. He glares at the frozen man, smartly cowering before him.

"Now, I'm going to take my brother up to my room and I need you to unlock the door for me, then I need you to send someone to find my mother who should be at the sheriff's office." Nick's voice leaves no room for complaint or rebuttal.

Trying to regain his composure, the not so bright clerk blurts out, "Your mother is already here. She, Larry, and Gene brought the sheriff in about fifteen minutes ago. Your sister followed them in with supplies and they are tending to Fred's wound in your room until the doctor can be located."

As the man's words wash over Nick, his fists curl into tight balls as the fury he feels at the lack of compassion this, now terrified, blubbering idiot, has toward his brother. "You mean to tell me..." he starts, the words barely audible as they are being forced out between clenched teeth. "Why you…"

He takes a step forward but a weak hand on his forearm stops him cold, and with a kindness he only exhibits to his family, Nick quickly bends down to look into the two glazed and feverish blue slits looking back at him.

"Ni...ck," Heath whispers as his hand slips back down to lay beside him on the settee. "Sick…"

"Ok, Heath," Nick gently responds as he looks around for anything that will catch the impending release. Eyeing an intricately designed crystal bowl on the side table, Nick jumps up to grab it, completely ignoring the whimpering attendant who half-heartedly reaches for it at the same time.

"Please not that…," Alfred quietly protests, just not loud enough for the larger man to hear him.

Leaning down in front of his brother, Nick helps Heath to lean more on his side as he places the bowl under his brother's chin. He rubs his brother's arm as the boy heaves and as the small amount of color left in his cheeks completely drain. He realizes at that moment the blond is trusting him, trusting him as his brother, and there is no way he is about to let him down. Taking off his bandana, he uses it to wipe away the remaining sickness from the boy's chin before unceremoniously dumping the bowl and cloth on the floor beside him.

Seeing the two slits close once again, he takes Heath's hand in his own and gives a gentle squeeze before once again taking the boy into his arms. "Alright, Heath let's get you upstairs and get this fever down," he softly says as he lifts him. With one unquestionable look of 'you'd better follow me' to the clerk, whose glistening eyes are darting between Nick and the bowl on the floor, he begins to head up the stairs.

Forcing his petrified limbs to obey his command, Alfred stumbles over to the front desk, grabs the keys and runs up after the loud-mouthed Barkley.

* * *

Using her forearm to wipe off the sweat building on her forehead, Victoria glances over to her young son, proud of all he has accomplished since they entered the hotel room. The bullet wound in Fred's left shoulder did not make the journey from the jail to the hotel without opening up again and Gene was forced to take quick decisive actions to get it under control. But, in the last few moments, he succeeded and now they are all breathing a sigh of relief. _He is going to make an excellent doctor if he sticks to his studies,_ she thinks as she walks over to the porcelain bowl and begins to wash the red stain of blood from her hands.

"Now we just need to get Dr. Merar here as soon as possible," Gene says as he comes up beside his mother and begins to wash his own hands. "I'll run down and get more water so that we can keep him cool. So far, he just seems to be running a low-grade fever. Pretty normal, considering."

Victoria turns to face him as they both dry off their hands. Pride beaming in her eyes, she wraps her arms around his waist. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers as she feels him return her embrace. They both look over toward Audra who has taken over dabbing the sweat from Fred's forehead and smile. The relief they all feel at being together and safe is palpable, as they each dare to hope that this nightmare is finally over.

The sound of the key unlocking the door draws their attention and both unconsciously stiffen as the thought of another attack invades their minds. Gene quickly releases his mother and runs over to grab his gun, just in case one of the men in the gang has somehow followed them here. Motioning for his Mother and Audra to gather behind him, Gene raises the weapon and holds his finger steady, as the sound of a loud booming voice echoes through the room.

"HURRY UP!"

The familiar voice of Nick Barkley reverberates around them and the three let out a sigh of relief. Heading towards the door, Victoria and Gene watch as the stumbling hotel clerk quickly enters and moves aside to allow passage to the rancher. Their relief turns to fear as they realize that Nick is carrying in an unconscious Heath. As they look up and meet his eyes, they can see his fear looking back at them and understand the urgency of the situation.

"He's burning up," Nick says, his voice sounding almost boylike as he looks toward his mother begging for answers on what to do to help the kid in his arms.

Moving quickly, Victoria motions for Nick to lay Heath down on the second bed as she pours fresh water into the bowl and brings it over to the end table in the corner. As soon as Heath is settled she reaches over to feel his forehead, but even as she hovers she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Wasting no time, she dips a cloth in the cool water and begins trying to cool him. As the water touches his burning skin, a few small moans escape the pursed lips followed by a bout of shivering.

"We need to get him cooled off," Victoria says as she turns to face Gene who has made his way to the other side of Heath and just like his mother can feel the heat coming off the kid in waves. "Run, draw a bath, cool water not cold."

Hearing the slight crack in his mother's voice, Gene just nods his understanding and then runs out the door.

"Is he ok?" Audra asks, trying to see over her mother to where Heath is laying. She has moved back to Fred's side but desperately wants to know how her brother is doing.

Turning to Audra, Victoria tries to reassure her, "His fever is too high and we need to get it under control. I need you to stay here with Fred until Howard arrives. I'll send Gene back to wait with you."

"Mother," Nick questions, "Maybe Gene and I should take care of Heath. You know how modest the boy can be." He nods toward the unconscious young man laying on the bed.

Victoria pauses for a moment as she realizes his words are true and that maybe she should allow the boys to take care of him until he is more comfortable with her. Looking down at the ill boy whose fevered mumblings and attempts to escape the blaze are presented in the continuous movements of his battered body, she lets out a small gasp at the overwhelming sense of responsibility she feels. No, this is her son!

"Thank you, Nick but I am not concerned with his modesty at the moment. I am more concerned about his getting his fever under control. Now please help me get MY son to the washroom."

Seeing the determination in her eyes and embracing the warm feeling her proclamation has awakened in himself, Nick hurries over to take his youngest brother in his arms once again. The trio waste no time in heading out of the room and down the hall to where Gene is waiting for them, the tub filling.

Placing the inside of her wrist under the cool running water, she looks up at Gene and smiles. "Perfect. Now, Gene please go and wait with your sister."

Gene starts to protest but quickly reins in any complaints as it registers to him the fear and longing he sees in his mother's eyes. "I'll send the doc over when he is through with Fred."

"Thank you," she says and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze before he leaves. Turning back to Nick, she says, "Nick, go ahead and lay him in the tub."

Obeying his mother's order, Nick slowly eases himself down on one knee as he places the boy from within his arms into the cool water, leaving only one arm supporting the blond's shoulders. With a jolt, Heath's eyes fly open as the feel of the water awakens him and he begins to desperately grab for the edge of the tub with only his left hand. His burst of energy spent within seconds, he lays back on the strong support of his brother.

"Shhh, Heath. You're safe," Victoria soothes as she takes a washcloth and dips it in the water before gently wiping the sides of his face. "You're going to be fine...," she continues to try and ease his anxiety, "...we just need to get your fever down."

They watch as the boy seems to settle into the cloth, his body relaxing into the cool water. Looking up at the worried eyes of her son, Victoria asks, "Do you know how long before Howard should be here?"

"Soon," Nick answers, his eyes back on his little brother. "Jarrod went looking for him and I'm sure they should be here soon."


	68. Chapter 68

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry for the long delay between chapters. It has been a very busy month and every time I sat down to write, I would just go blank. With the holiday fast approaching, life should calm down so I can get this story finished! Thank you again for all your encouragement and support!

* * *

Gripping the cloth tightly in her hand, she squeezes out the excess water before once again applying the cool damp cotton to the boy's face. The small moans and slight twitch of his head are the only rewards for her continuing effort but it is enough to bring a smile to her face. They have been at this for the last twenty minutes and her hands are good and wrinkled from the constant wetness, but Heath seems to be more at peace as the water slowly trickles down his face.

Looking over at Nick, she can tell he is tiring as he flexes the hand at the end of the arm still holding the boy's shoulders above the water. His eyes haven't left his brother's face and at every moan or movement, he is there offering comforting words to the youngest Barkley son. _How far we have all come amongst so much tragedy,_ she thinks as she repeats the dipping of the cloth in the water. Reaching up she places her hand on the blond's forehead and is relieved to feel that the cool water has had the desired effect.

"Nick," Victoria says, drawing his gaze to her, "we are going to need to get him out of the tub soon. We don't want him to catch a chill."

Taking the cloth she wrings it out and hands it to Nick, before placing her hands on the side of the tub and using it to help her rise from her kneeling position. Her legs scream as blood flows life back into her stiff joints and she takes a minute to stretch before looking back at her two sons. Nick has taken up the act of cooling his little brother all the while talking to him about the ranch and all the work that needs to be done once he is back on his feet.

"I'm going to go get some towels and blankets," Victoria starts as she heads for the door, "I'll get Gene to come and help you move him."

Nick nods his head in response but doesn't take his eyes away from the kid in his arms. He can still feel the warmth of fever burning through the boy but the intensity is much less than when they first laid Heath in the tub and for that he is grateful. Feeling a small hand on his shoulder, he looks up into grey eyes and feels a sense of comfort in his mother's smile.

"We'll get him through this, Nick," she says as she brings her hand to rest on the cheek of her protective son.

"I know," Nick stammers out. "If he can take on two ruffians a couple of days after being shot, he'll have this fever licked in no time," he declares to the room as if daring anyone to disagree with him.

With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, she turns away when a knock on the door interrupts the moment and a familiar voice calls out to those inside the washroom.

"Mother, Nick, may I come in?"

With a large smile spreading across her face, Victoria quickly heads over to the door to allow Jarrod entrance into the room. Taking in the sight of her oldest son, holding blankets and towels in his arms, she can see the relief gleaming down at her and she realizes that for the first time in what seems like forever her whole family is safe and under one roof.

"Dr. Merar is in with Fred," he mentions as he walks past his mother and looks down at his two brothers. "He thought you might need these." He motions towards the items in his arms. "How's he doing?" he asks, his voice hesitant, his concern clear.

"Better," Victoria answers and then goes to take the blankets from Jarrod. "Dr. Merar was correct, we were just about to take Heath out of the tub. I'll lay out the blanket and you and Nick can lift him out and dry him off. How are Fred and Jim?"

"Jim is fine, resting, and Howard was working on Fred when I left. The bullet went through, and with Gene's quick action to stop the bleeding, he feels our good sheriff will be fine in a few weeks. Gene and Ida were assisting when I left and I sent Audra to get cleaned up," he pauses as he watches his mother set the blankets beside the tub. "I also took the liberty of renting three additional rooms. Two across the hall and the other connected to our current rooms. I thought we would place Heath in the adjoining room to Fred and Jim so that Howard can easily move between them."

"Thank you, Jarrod." She looks up at her ever thoughtful son and walks over to wrap her arms around him, reveling in his strength before letting him go and walking back over to the tub. She kneels down once again beside the tub and gently runs her fingers through the wet too-long locks of the boy she now claims as her own.

"Heath," she calls out to him a couple of times and patiently waits as his eyes flutter open and he focuses on her face.

"Mrs. Barkley," he tiredly whispers, his voice hoarse.

"I think we are well past such formalities," she smiles at him and watches as his eyes take in his surroundings.

"Guess so," he blushes and then leans back into the arm holding him above the water. This isn't the first time he has ended up in a tub due to fever and he is just too exhausted at the moment to care. Taking in a small breath, he turns to look over at who is holding him up and is greeted with the broad smile of his older brother. "Thanks, Nick," he whispers as his eyes begin to close once again.

"Anytime, little brother," Nick answers back. "Now, how about we get you out of this here tub before you completely shrivel up!"

With a nod of his head, Heath uses his left hand to try to pull himself up and is quickly reprimanded by his big brother. "Hold on, boy," Nick gruffs, "Let Jarrod and I do the work. You don't want Mother upset with us, now do you?"

"Sorry," the boy says between breaths as the small movement has left him winded, causing those in the room to look at each other with concern. Victoria leans and tests his forehead once again, the heat is less but still there, a clear sign that they are going to be in for a long night.

"Let your brothers help you, Heath. I am going to go get the room ready," she says as she places a kiss on the rosy cheek before turning to leave the room.

* * *

Looking down at the restless kid, Howard can see the strained lines of pain etched across the boy's forehead. The laudanum must be wearing off, he thinks as he hears a small moan coming from the bed beside him. His wife, sitting across from him reaches over and grabs his hand. They both know that fevers tend to rise at night and that as Heath battles the infection they are in for an exhausting couple of days. Between Fred lying in the other room next to Jim and this new Barkley, the two doubt they will get much sleep in the coming days. Though, honestly, it is a welcomed distraction from thinking about the ruin that was once their home.

"Victoria should be back soon with the rest of the family," Ida comments to her distracted husband, "if you would like to go check on Fred. I can handle things here."

"Uh," the doctor mumbles and then looks up at his wife. He half-heard what she just said but is too busy concentrating on his patient to really absorb her words. As his focus shifts to his lovely wife, he realizes he can still see a hint of red under her eyes from when she broke down at the site of their beloved home.

"I said," she replies her voice a little louder, "That the Barkleys should be finished getting cleaned up and eating." A smile breaks across her face when she thinks about the family making excuses for why they should stay while Howard cleaned and redressed Heath's wounds. It took Howard basically ordering them to leave to get them to realize that he was simply trying to give them a chance to do so, knowing that with the three patients they were all going to be up most of the night. "If you would like to go and check on Fred, I can handle things here."

Smiling at the woman he adores, the doctor squeezes her hand a little tighter. "What would I do without you," he says as he rises from his chair. Releasing her hand he stretches out the kink in his back before taking in a deep breath and walking around the bed to place his hands on his wife's shoulders. With a gentle squeeze, he leans down and places a soft kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear, "I love you."

"I'll send Frank in; he was sitting with Jim and Alpha, and I know he wanted to see Heath and talk with the family," he says as he makes his way back around to the other side of the bed and heads toward the door connecting the two rooms.

As if on cue, a quiet knock quickly followed by the sound of the knob turning and the pouring in of five refreshed looking Barkleys surprises them both. As the family makes their way inside they see two smiling faces looking back at them.

"Your ears must have been burning," Howard comments as the group comes to gather around the bed. He can see the family has been busy as Jarrod and Gene are carrying a few different packages, that the doctor assumes are clothes for their ailing family member.

"What?" Victoria questions as she makes her way around the physician and leans down to feel Heath's forehead. Frowning, she looks over at Ida who gives her an encouraging smile.

"Don't fret, we both know fevers rise at night," Ida reminds her.

"I know," she smiles back at the doctor's wife and then looks around at her children's concerned faces. "I was just hoping he is over the worst of it."

"Don't worry," Howard chimes in. "He is battling an infection and today's battle did not help his cause, but he is young and strong and with a little help I do think he will be fine. Let's just keep the fever under control and give him a few days of complete bed rest," he finishes and seeing the determined look on their faces, he decides to take his leave.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go check on my other patients." Turning to his wife, he continues, "Ida, would you join me?"

Ida smiles as she stands, leaving an empty seat beside that bed which is quickly filled by Gene. She makes her way around the bed to Victoria, who she wraps her arms around and the two old friends take a moment to comfort each other before Ida makes her way toward her husband.

"Howard," Jarrod calls out as the couple reaches the door. "Would you please send Frank in? We have a few things to discuss with him."

"Of course, Jarrod," Howard answers and reaches for the knob.

"Oh, Doc," Nick calls out, right before they step through the door. Since he came into the room he was concentrating on the boy in the bed and almost forgot a message he had for the Merars. Seeing the pair stop and look at him, he walks over to them before he says, "I got some men coming out tomorrow to start work on your house. I told them to stop by here first and talk with you and Ida. We'll have your house back together in no time."

"Thank you, Nick," Howard responds as the two shake hands.

"It's the least we could do considering all you have done for us," he replies as he looks back at the boy in the bed.

With a nod, Howard and Ida leave the room and the rest of the Barkleys make their ways to different chairs in the room.

"So, is it finally over?" Audra innocently asks, looking over to Nick and Jarrod, hope gleaming in her eyes.

"I hope so, honey," Jarrod responds looking toward the door as he waits for Frank to enter. He tries to push down the uneasy seed of doubt brewing inside of him as he wonders if this really is the end.


	69. Chapter 69

Feeling the weight of the eyes behind him boring into his back, Frank stares out the room's window before taking in a deep breath and turning to face the family he came to talk with. He knows the information he has come to deliver is not exactly what the group wants to hear but it's the truth of the situation even if that doesn't sit well with him. He believes Auggie has been honest about all he knows of Olin and Buddy, but there is an annoying fluttering working its way around his gut, warning him that there is more to this story. Still, without something more to go on or without some type of concrete evidence, all they can do is continue to search.

Letting out a loud sigh, he slowly turns back around to face the group he has come to know quite well over the last week. He has to admit they have grown on him, no longer does he view them as the hostile family that he needs to protect his ex-deputy and friend from. No, he can tell in the midst of all they have endured, they have grown to love the kid as much as he does. _Heath does have a way of getting under your skin without even trying_ , he laughs to himself as he glances over to the bed where the blond is battling fever and infection. Victoria and Audra are sitting on either side of him, bathing him in cool cloths, doing their best to keep his fever down.

"WELL," Nick bellows, interrupting his thoughts. "ARE YOU GOING TO TELL US WHAT AUGGIE SAID OR STARE OUT THE WINDOW ALL NIGHT?"

"Nick," Jarrod cautions, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder trying to calm him. Frank had come into the room a few minutes ago while Gene had stepped out to get more cool water and he has since been waiting patiently for the boy's return. "I'm sure he is just waiting for us all to be together. We all should hear what he has to say at the same time."

Franks nods to Jarrod and can't help but smile as he watches the dark-haired rancher shrug out from underneath his brother's hand and starts pacing in front of him. _Boy Howdy, Heath are you going to have some fun with this brother of yours,_ he laughs to himself while he thinks about the blond's wicked sense of humor. Over the year the two had worked together, he has lost count of how many jokes his young deputy had played on him. _Never a dull moment with you around_ , he thinks as he looks to the bed once again.

The sound of the door opening and Alpha stepping through breaks up the tension in the room and causes the highly alert group to draw their guns. Recognizing his error in walking in unannounced, Alpha takes in a large gulp, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. He nervously smiles as he makes eye contact with the room's occupants before stuttering off on apology about not being more mindful about his entrance. He then clears a path for Gene to enter and watches as his new friend takes the bowl over to the side table where his Mother is sitting.

"How's he doing?" Alpha asks as he steps further into the room allowing the door to close behind him. He watches as Victoria turns towards him and gives him a reassuring smile.

"His fever is about the same," Victoria answers. Seeing the hope in Alpha's eyes fall, she quickly continues, "Which is good news. I was afraid as night fell it would rise but so far we have been able to stop that from happening."

"Oh, that is good news," Alpha smiles. "He tends to have powerful nightmares when his fever gets too high," he absently continues until his eyes fall on the hard look Frank is giving him. Taking the hint, he quickly shuts up and heads back to the door but not before seeing the troubled, curious looks in the Barkleys' eyes.

"I best go back to sitting with Uncle Jim,'' he stutters out as he leaves the room.

Shaking his head, Frank walks over the bed and looks down at his young friend knowing how horrified he would be at any part of his history being revealed. He remembers that Jim had let him know all he has already informed the Barkleys of when it comes to the boy's past and he knows the kid would be beyond perturbed if any more was revealed without his consent. Still, Alpha was just telling the truth and maybe the family should be prepared, just in case.

"The boy's seen the elephant and crossed a few hills in his young life," Frank answers their unspoken questions. "It might be best if his brothers stay with him tonight, just in case," he warns and then accepts the nod from Nick and Jarrod letting him know that they will make sure to stay with Heath throughout the night.

"Now, about Auggie," he says as he walks over, grabs an empty chair, and then brings it over toward the bed. He knows the boy isn't fully awake but would feel wrong not at least trying to make him a part of the conversation. He motions for the others who are standing to do the same and then takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He waits a few minutes for the others to gather around before leaning back to begin.

"Well?" Nick impatiently prods once they are all seated. His hands are on his knees and his foot is tapping, causing Frank to smile.

"Well," Frank repeats and then laughs when Nick lets out a low growl. _Yes, Heath, you will have lots of fun with this one_ , he thinks before continuing, "It turns out Buddy owed this Olin fellow quite a substantial amount of money. It seems he was good with killing but terrible at gambling. He found out his father had written him out of his will and figured he found a way to settle his debt."

"Olin didn't seem like the type of guy to have someone do his dirty work," Nick interrupts, questioning the logic of what Auggie has told Frank.

"He wasn't," Frank agrees. "It was always the plan for Olin to show up and kill you all himself. Buddy just asked for enough time to get you," he looks over to Jarrod, " to make him beneficiary to the Barkley estate. That way he could pay off Olin."

"And Auggie, how does he fit into all of this," Jarrod cuts in, trying to fit together all the pieces to this rather ornate puzzle.

"Buddy was recommended as someone who might be able to help Auggie make the kind of cash needed to settle up with Cunningham," Frank answers.

"But?" Jarrod asks seeing the look of disbelief in Frank's eyes.

"I don't think that was ever supposed to happen," Frank answers him honestly, that annoying feeling in the pit of his stomach coming back full force.

'Why not?" Gene asks, confused.

"Because Cunningham is the one that gave him Buddy's name and told him where to find him," Jarrod chimes in answering the question for Frank. They all turn toward him, looks of wonder in their eyes. Before they can ask any questions, he continues, "Am I right?" He looks at Frank, who nods.

"Yep," Frank discloses shaking his head. None of this is sitting right with him and from the looks of the lawyer he is guessing he is feeling the same way. "Cunningham sent Auggie to Buddy and I'd bet my horse that he knew exactly how Buddy made his money and what he was up to."

"So, we go arrest this Cunningham." Nick fumes, standing abruptly he sends his chair flying backward.

"We can't, Nick," Jarrod replies his voice dripping with regret. He runs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. He is drained and ready for all of this to be over, for his family to be safe. Looking up, he meets his brother's eyes, ready to stop him from flying off the handle. "He hasn't broken any laws."

"How can that be," Audra cries out, the anguish in her voice tearing at each of them.

"It's not illegal to tell your friend to go meet with someone about raising the funds you need," Frank regretfully answers. "Technically, he didn't order Auggie to do anything illegal and without proof beyond the testimony of a proven criminal, there is nothing we can do."

"Do you think Cunningham is a threat to my family?" Victoria asks. Her voice is strong and he notices that as she speaks she has taken Heath's hand into her own.

"I don't," he answers honestly. "I think Cuningham got exactly what he wanted, the land, the improvements Auggie made, and the man out of his life forever. I don't think he ever wanted anything from you, which is why he showed up here acting like a concerned citizen, warning us about Auggie. He stayed just above the law and made sure he came out on top," he finishes, his voice dripping with disgust.

"So, it's over?" Gene asks, hopeful that maybe this nightmare has come to an end.

"It sure is nicely wrapped up with a bow," Frank gruffs.

"But you think there's more?" Jarrod asks, his own feelings of unease weighing on him.

Frank nods and then leans forward again, elbows on knees. "It's just this mess with Olin," he confesses. "It just doesn't sit right with me."

"Why not?" Nick fumes. _Why make it more complicated than it needs to be?_ He thinks to himself, wanting nothing more than for this to be over. He looks over at Heath, who is shifting restlessly underneath the blankets. It's well past time for this kid brother to get better and start working the ranch with him.

"Don't know," Frank shrugs. "Just feels like there's someone else that's as happy as a lark right now, with Olin outta the way."

"Like the person responsible for the mine collapse in Midas," Jarrod adds, remembering how Olin had confessed to knowing who was responsible for the mine collapse that killed twenty-five men and sent his brother to prison.

"Yeah, exactly," Frank agrees. 'But I don't think that has anything to do with you folks, unless of course…"

"I continue to pursue the truth about the collapse and take the blame off of Alasdair," Jarrod finishes for him.

"Which, of course, you will," Victoria says as she reaches over and grabs his hand. Giving her son the reassurance that his family stands with him whatever his choice.

"COURSE HE WILL, HE'S A BARKLEY!" Nick exclaims causing them all to laugh.

"Well then," Frank says as he stands, "I think the immediate threat is over but I'd be vigilant as you start to pursue this, Jarrod." He reaches over and shakes the lawyer's hand and then makes his way around the room saying his farewells. "I'm going to make my way back up to Sacramento and deliver some good news for a change."

"The Dowlins!" Audra's joy shines through her eyes. "I bet they will be so happy to be home and united as a family once again." She turns to her mother, "Maybe we can drop off some dresses for Molly."

"I think that's a lovely idea," Victoria answers and then turns to Frank. "Please give the Dowlins our regards and let them know that if there is anything they need to let us know."

"I will, ma'am," Frank answers and then motions toward the sleeping boy. Rising from her chair, Victoria allows the marshall to take her place beside the bed and motions for the rest of them to back away and give the two some space.

Taking over dipping the cloths into the cool water and replacing the warm ones on the too-hot skin, Frank leans over and whispers in the boy's ear. "I gotta get going, Heath." He runs his hands through the damp hair, hoping to see a sliver of blue peek through the closed eyelids.

"You got yourself a family, boy. These Barkleys, they care about you and I want you to try not to fight it too much. I know it won't be... hasn't been… easy. But I think if you just give it time, you're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserve. But first, you gotta get back on your feet, so you do what you are told and get well." Reaching out, he grips the back of the blond's neck and gives it a gentle squeeze before rising to take his leave.

"Frank," Victoria calls out and meets the exiting Marshall at the door. "I want to thank you for all you have done for this family, we are in your debt," she says and sees him start to speak but stops him and continues, "I want you to know, we'll take good care of Heath. He's a very special young man, it just took us a moment to recognize it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Barkley. You won't regret taking that boy into your heart." Frank smiles at her and gently squeezes her hand, before turning to the whole group, "After Sacramento, I need to head into Jubilee but if you all need anything just send a wire."

With that, he leaves, and the family settles in around their newest member. Gene and Audra have taken up the task of keeping the blond cool while the others sit quietly and watch. They are each deep in thought, their feelings swirling in different directions as they are unable to release the penned up energy that has been holding them together for the last week.

"So, it's really over?" Audra hesitantly asks, the hope in her voice clear.

"For now, honey," Jarrod answers, his voice lacking strong conviction. He reaches over and places his arms around his little sister, trying to comfort her. "It looks like it's over, for now."


End file.
